The Collinsport Chronicles XXI: Trial by Jury
by Maryland Rose
Summary: Trask, Carl Collins, Jason Mc Guire, Schuyller Rumsen, Suki Forbes, Ruby Tate and the rest of Barnabas' victims come after him for revenge, using Willie and Julia as hostages against him.
1. Chapter 1

Laura has been vanquished, but Willie has been seriously wounded. Kenneth and Julia have separated, as Kenneth learned Julia's guilty secret. Hallie remembers that she was once Maude Browning, and wants revenge on Barnabas. Delia is falling under the power of an ancient whip used in slave ships.

* * *

TRIAL BY JURY

Chapter 1

Willie slept peacefully, stroking a furry object under his hand. Kenneth cocked his head when he saw it. he cleared his throat and spoke.

"Mr. Collins, you must be aware that visiting hours are over."

The bat under Willie's hand dissolved and Barnabas stood in front of Kenneth.

"What were you doing, anyway?"

"I just wanted to be with him. I did not mean to hurt him nor anything."

Kenneth grumbled again, impatiently. "Just make sure I don't catch you again."

"All right" Barnabas smiled sheepishly.

But Kenneth did not return the smile. He only looked sternly at him. "You can go now, Mr. Collins."

It was not use. Kenneth had found something unpleasant about his wife that he found difficult to live with. Barnabas moved towards the door. There he stopped and turned "How are you and Julia doing?"

"I imagine that you know that we have separated. And if you want to plead with me to reconsider, you are wasting your time."

"She wants to go back with you."

"We all want things that we can't have."

"But why can't you go to her?"

"She and you got away with murder once. You should be content with having avoided prosecution. Surely that should be enough."

"I thought you'd reconsider."

"I won't. Certain things are not done. Period."

"Why should he have to go through all that again? She already came close to a nervous breakdown a couple of times. Do you want a repeat performance?"

"That's between her and her conscience."

"Damn it! How many times has she got to pay for it? Can you really throw her away like that?"

"The subject is closed, Mr. Collins."

* * *

Zeb let the papers fall to the ground. He could not have read that. It was a trick... a trick of his eyes. The words did not mean what he thought they meant...

Sheriff Brant, of all people! He touched his face, still bruised form the beating that Brant had given him.

"Zeb?" Jessica called "anything wrong?"

Zeb shook his head.

"You don't have to finish straightening up those papers today. They just stood there for so long that a couple more days won't make any difference."

Zeb shrugged and fished the papers again.

"Leave it. You'll go blind reading that thing over and over. Just leave it for tomorrow."

With an effort, Zeb put the paper away. "You are right."

"Come to bed, tiger. Or are you going to tell me that I brought this nightgown for nothing?"

* * *

"You want us to kick Derek out of your house?" Megan had to make sure that she understood Delia.

"I would do it myself, but he has ;powers. I am afraid of doing it myself. I do not know what he could do if he got mad. If I knew of a way to weaken him so that I could overpower him.

"I think that you worry needlessly. He is not violent. But if you feel more comfortable doing something like that, talk to Angelique. She'll tell you how to protect yourself."

* * *

Julia took notes as she read the papers before her. That was it. Bury herself in her work. That was what she always did when she hurt.

Face it. Her marriage was over. Kenneth would never overlook her guilty secret, or her keeping him in the dark about it.

She felt angry. With herself. With Barnabas for causing it. With Kenneth for being so stubborn and self-righteous. And more than a bit with Dave for leaving her in such a lurch.

There was a rustle of wings, and then Barnabas was in front of her.

"You come at bad time. Any moment I will start yelling that everything is your fault."

"I already know that." Barnabas smiled self-deprecatingly. I already saw Kenneth at the hospital." he told her of what had happened.

"Petting you? You mean you were his teddy bear?"

"Yes."

Julia shook her head, as if she did not believe what she heard. "You never cease to amaze me."

"I could not leave him yet. You know how close he and I are. I kept thinking of how I could have lost him and..."

"And how could you pass up the opportunity to make an ass of yourself? What did Kenneth say?"

"The same. He feels cheated. Or, as he puts it, it is a matter of principle."

"Yes, the same."

"It isn't fair." Barnabas sighed. "You know what we went through, you and I. We though that it was over. Of course, we knew we'd hit rough spots now and then. But nothing like this."

"I guess we did not truly have the right to put it behind us, after all."

":But what else have we got to do? It cost me Sarah, for starters. Then I went down on my knees and begged for your life. George could have easily shot me. Or raped me. I would not have defended myself. I saved string, even if I felt foolish for doing so. I went to Old Munsungan to show me a way out. I made it possible for Zeb to shoot me with impunity. He just pistol-whipped me. And you... you kept going from nervous breakdown to nervous breakdown. What else can we do? Is there a way we don't have to pay anymore?"

"That's the way Kenneth is." Julia sighed. "He's my self-appointed conscience."

"I think that what really hurts him is being kept in the dark as we did. He felt excluded from your life."

"Yes. If I had confessed to him, throwing myself at his mercy, weeping and everything, then maybe he'd be generous. But that's not my style at all. and he's a bit of twerp."

"More than a bit." Barnabas said bitterly, then added "I am glad that you are bearing it well."

Julia nodded. "As you said, I have paid for it, and what I still owe, I have been forgiven. And I am not the type to say that I am nothing without a man. Kenneth is angry with me, but I am angry with him, too."

"Are you angry with me?"

"Of course." Julia smiled "After all, the whole thing IS your fault. But "she sighed "I am not so angry as to forget that you helped me. So don't be in a hurry to bring back the whip."

"If you think that it will help..."

"No, it helped me once and that should be enough. But if you want, I have some paperwork to straighten up."

Barnabas looked at it and made a face. "I wish you whipped me instead."

"You don't like paperwork."

"Do you?"

"No. But it won't kill you. And then suffering is supposed to be good for the soul."

* * *

The paper still laid there. He picked it up again. He should throw it away, but he did not.

It could not be true... Not Uncle Dave. Not him... Not one of those... those perverts.

It was all the other's fault. That George Brant. He had seduced Uncle Dave. It was all Brant's fault...

He touched his aching face. George Brant had done this to him. And to Jessica too...

He ground his teeth. George Brant would pay... He would make sure of that.

* * *

Carolyn held Edmund by the hand as the lights were lit in Collinwood to welcome her back. Behind her stood Roger and Quentin.

"Home at last." she said "I didn't realize that I missed it so much."

"We all missed it." Roger said.

"But we are back." Carolyn smiled warmly, drawing Edmund close to her. "This is going to be a happy house again. For all of us."

* * *

Buffy looked at her glass, wishing she could drown herself in it. Dirk was gone, would never come back to her... She shouldn't even miss him.

She had been faithful to him and Laura, and they had thrown her away. She had betrayed Barnabas and he had taken her back with no questions asked.

But it was Dirk that kept coming back to her.

Why did she keep on attracting creeps to her, anyway? John Yeager had not been enough. She had to fall for Dirk Wilkins.

Why couldn't he attract somebody like Barnabas for a change? Why did she still miss Dirk, knowing what he was and what he had done to her?

She moved towards the bookcase, opened the secret door, less and less secret each day, and stared at Barnabas' face.

"For a while I thought of hating you." she confessed " for bringing me into this strange world. But I knew that it was not true. All you ever did was save me from Haskell. No, if I should hate someone, it should be myself."

She left the room, just in time to see Oriana getting her bags together.

"Are you leaving?" she asked with astonishment.

"Yes."

"Why? He wants you to stay with him."

"I know. That's why I am leaving, before it gets too serious with him."

"It meant nothing to you, then?" Buffy asked "this last betrayal is not what he needs."

"I did not betray him when it counted. Now... now I have to think of myself. And of him too. I never meant it to get this serious, and I'd better cut it before it gets worse."

"But why can't you get serious with him?"

"For one thing, I would not like to come second place to Willie in his affection." she stopped Buffy's protest." I don't imply anything sexual, but that fact is that when Willie was in the hospital, being operated on, I did not exist for him."

Buffy looked at her hostilely, loyalty to Barnabas swelling belatedly in her. "You just can't handle commitment, is that it?"

"I do want commitment. Not yet, but I want it. And I want to have children someday. Barnabas is sterile, hopelessly sterile. And he's not somebody that can help you raise a child, either. I want a normal relationship and that he cannot offer."

"So you leave him like this?"

"Better for him if it is a clean break."

"You don't care for him at all."

"I do. But not enough to sacrifice my future. " she shrugged. "tell him that I got a new assignment and that I could not pass it up. Tell him that he comes a poor second to my stories, if you like."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Angelique's golden hair lay intermingled with her own red one on the pillow. Megan caressed her shoulders as she drank.

"I wish we could do this more often." Angelique confessed "we get along so well together."

"We tried that once." Megan reminded her. " then you got jealous of me, and with good cause. And then you like men... Specially one that you cannot leave alone, no matter how crazy he drives you."

"It would not have to be that way."

"It will not work. We can be the best of friends, getting to bed every now and then. But as serious lovers it is a different story. You like men. And so do I... And in my case, I need them."

"But it is you that I want."

Megan cursed under her breath "You sound just like Frank Torrance when he fell in love with me. He was so hurt when I turned him down that he fell for that salamander... I only hope that you make a better choice than he did."

Angelique's hands ran over Megan's back, hungrily "What makes you so sure that we could not make it, the two of us?"

"Barnabas" Megan answered bluntly "You cannot leave him alone."

"It is over between us."

'I'll believe it when I see it."

"I can learn not to be jealous of...of what you have to do."

"Angie, Angie, Angie.." Megan shook her head "You can't do that, anymore than I can change my habits. No, this is the best we can have. I like you. You are a good friend. I like you in bed. I like tasting your blood. But you are not what I need, and I am not what you need."

Angelique sulked.

"Just be thankful for what you can have." she said, gathering her clothes again.

* * *

"Why are you looking at me that way?" Kenneth asked George in a very bad mood. "Like I was some kind of jerk?"

"Do you feel like a jerk?"

"You think that I was wrong in separating from Julia?"

"As a bachelor I am not expert in marriage and what it takes to keep it alive. But I like Julia."

"But you know that the murder charge was true, even if you tore it up after you got free from Laura's control."

"After Barnabas set me free. As to how I got King to sign it, I might end up losing my badge if he has a mind to it... I do not like to think about it... I want to think that I would have never done it on my own... I could have tried to convert him as I did to Redwolf, but I was... I was ashamed, because I knew that I was betraying Dave."

"Dave was the murder victim."

"Yes. And I can't think of a single instance in which he would have let his name or memory be exploited by somebody like Laura. I knew what he'd say if he knew what I was doing. But I lied to myself. I am not a very convincing liar...

"You were close to him?"

"Very close."

"But then, how could you be so friendly with Barnabas and Julia?"

"Strange, isn't it? But I did not find out about it until after I got to know them well. Oh, I thought of making them pay." he grimaced, remembering how far he had gone in that direction. " But it passed. I just could not hate them."

"Still, it was murder."

"They have already paid for it. They should not have to go through it again. It is usually called double jeopardy."

"You think that they have paid for it?"

"Zeb pistol-whipped Barnabas. He could just as easily shot him if he had wanted. And Julia..." he looked down ashamed of himself. "I beat Julia up. the same way I did with Zeb, trying to get a confession. I stopped, but not before... she never said a word of it to anyone, not even Barnabas."

Kenneth looked at him in surprise. "You?"

"So, when I say that they have paid enough, I know what I am talking about."

* * *

Carolyn looked at the books the maid offered her "Barnabas Collins and Quentin's Demon." "Barnabas, Quentin, and the Witch's Curse." "Barnabas, Quentin, and the Nightmare Assassin", "The Demon of Barnabas Collins".

"You found these?" she asked the maid.

"Yes, madam," Lucie said "In that room of the West Wing, the one you told us to keep away from."

"With good reason. If you went into that room you might not come back again. Well, let's see what these are."

There was a note attacked to the manuscripts. She read it.

"Dear Barnabas:

I hope you don't mind my using you as a character in my books. I have been pounding at these, as you see. Evidently the powers that be do not think that these are the kind of books that will release me from this constant toil. I hope that you will look on them more kindly.

Roxanne's all right. So is Blair. She keeps Chris on a short leash.

The Canadians bombarded the Eastern Shore. The White House burned again. The war is not going well at all and the regime is tottering. We may see it fall soon.

Roxanne and I talk sometimes. She does not mourn Quentin anymore and she misses you. She says that once the government falls she will go looking for you, if you'll have her...

If only she was not such an efficient killer I would be overjoyed, but I worry that she has been at war too long and had forgotten how to live in peace... Well, you will have to deal with her, and play it by ear.

Please, Barnabas, read these and let me know what you think of them.

Wish you the best.

William H. Loomis.

Carolyn looked up at Lucie "These belong to Cousin Barnabas" she said, surprised to find no bitterness in her voice as she spoke his name.

"Do you want me to take these to him?"

"No. I will go there myself."

* * *

Zeb stood rigidly in front of George "You understand very well what I mean." he said stiffly.

"But I thought you understood that we did not do those things of our own free will. We were caught in a madness.."

"I know nothing except that you beat me and Jessica up, you faggot, and that I will have your badge for that."

George stiffened. "What did you call me?"

"You heard me, Brant. I will have your badge for what you did to Jessica and me."

* * *

Weakness was the first thing he felt. Then his efforts to open his eyes met physical resistance.

He had been blindfolded. He lifted his hands to take it off, but they never made it. In mid-movement, they were seized, bound together and used to pull him up from his coffin.

"What's happening?" Derek asked, more surprised than angry. "Why...?"

He couldn't finish. A hand covered his mouth, pushing a tennis ball in it.

He was really weak, Delia thought with satisfaction. Angelique had been true to her word. A vampire could be weakened enough so that she could do this to him.

She pulled Derek up with the rope until his feet barely touched the floor, then she tightened even further the binding at his wrists.

Derek made a sound. He had begun to get scared. Delia smiled. He wanted him scared. It made up for what he had had to put up from him.

She opened the penknife absentmindedly over his tight.

"I wanted to tell you to get out." she said with mock calm "but since you are stubborn, I decided to convince you this way. I don't care to have you threaten me in any way."

Threaten her? When had he done that? Was she crazy?

"You see, I can protect myself." she pinched the tight with the penknife. Not hard, just to make him know that she had it.

"I want you to understand that I don't intend to harm you." she continued "but if you ever bother me again..." she moved the knife to his crotch, holding it with only enough pressure to be frightening, not painful. "I will cut you here. Understood?"

What was wrong with her? Why was she doing this to him?

She looked at him, a smile twisting her face. Maybe he needed a better reminded. Something that would keep him fearing her, even after his strength and powers returned. Something that would make him say nothing about this...

And she wished to do more to him. She could smell his fear, and that fear had an exhilarating effect on her. This was better than what she had had before. The erotic effect Derek had on her, as he hung helpless from his wrists was the strongest she had ever felt. She licked her lips, anticipating the delight, then she reached for the whip.

* * *

So it had come to this. Getting sued for police brutality...

The irony is that some of it was deserved. He HAD beaten up Zeb and Jessica. And that was not something alien to him. There was a part of him that made him want to rough up his prisoners. He did not indulge it, but he knew it was there.

He knew it was there because once, right at the beginning, he had done it...

...He saw again Julia in the corner of the cell, her face bruised, holding her breath, waiting for the next blow...

He saw himself then, mercilessly. He had stopped beating, not because of pit, but because he was getting tired, because he wanted a breather. And because he wanted to see his handiwork...

...He had been young then, and the words that Willie had let escape had opened up the old wound again...

As Dirk Wilkins had. It was the same old wound. And because of that wound, he had aided Laura...

It was not Dirk Wilkins that he had wanted in his bed, but he was good enough for a while...

He though of Julia again. How she repressed her sobs...At least she had been safe from any rape attempt. But was just his personal preference, not self-restraint... His first official act as Sheriff of Collinsport had been to try to beat a confession out of her.

Part of it was rage at having to give up Barnabas, because by then he had begun lusting after him, and the revelation meant that he was duty bound to forget him. unless it was to hurt him in any way that he could.

He had not truly expected her to confess. Only to vent his anger and his sense of loss.

He saw again the whole scene.

"What have you done, Georgie?"

He had never expected to see Dave again. And never looking at him that way.

"She is guilty. I know what she did to you."

"And you beat her up?" Dave looked at Julia without anger, but also without interest. She turned her face away.

"She deserved it."

Dave looked severely at him. "Is this the kind of sheriff you want to be? Is this how you will interrogate suspects in the future? Is this how you plant to handle your prisoners? If you do, better turn in your badge now."

"It is a special case."

"They are all special cases, Georgie. You begin twisting the law for your own ends, and you are not better than she is. If you go down this path there are two things that will happen. Either you lose your badge and retire in disgrace, or you'll have to make all sorts of deals to keep it. Deals that will make you gag, but that you'll have to keep. All you hoped for when you ran for this office will go down the drain. Is that you want for yourself?"

"But.." he pointed to her. "she killed you."

"So?" he had shrugged. "You are important to me, Georgie. She is not. She is not worth throwing away your whole future for."

Julia had shrunk away at the words.

He realized now that those words had hurt her much more than the beating. He had not confronted her, just ignored her, made her feel insignificant, worthless... But it would only be years later when her hurt would surface again, tearing both her and Barnabas...

In any case, that was the end of that. He had released Julia, who had never spoken of her beating, saying that her bruises had come from a fall. And he had never roughed up any other prisoner, even in circumstances that would certainly excuse it... Not until Zeb...

It was not wholly because of Laura's power that he had done it. There had been anger too and a sense of loss. The old wound was still there...

He had missed Dave. For a while he kept appearing and talking to him, giving him advice and sharing with him. It had been somehow like old times. He did not worship him the way he did when he was a kid. He knew now his flaws and weaknesses, but still he wanted to have him. If not his body, at least by his shoulder, talking to him, laughing with him and at him, telling him what to do, the way it had been years ago...

He knew that had Dave lived long enough, he would have ended the relationship, for his own good, as well as for the desire of a new boy. But it had not happened, and he had gone on missing him, looking for older men that he could pretend they were Dave if he closed his eyes when they made love to him...'

And the sense of loss had become worse because of Zeb's resemblance to Dave. He knew that he was betraying Dave, worse than Julia had done, when he let Laura exploit his memory for her reign of terror. And he could not bear the knowledge. So he had beaten Zeb, to be able to lie himself about it.

And now he would pay for it.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Buffy sighed as Barnabas passed her in the corridor.

"Anything wrong?" he asked her.

"Nothing much. And then it isn't as if you didn't have problems of your own, what with Oriana, and Hallie, and Willie..."

Willie will be out of the hospital tomorrow. Oriana, well, it was not meant to be. As for Hallie" he frowned "I worry for her sake."

"Frank and me, Redwolf, the sheriff, the rest of us we wanted very simple things that Laura promised us. Like salamanders in our bed. I think that Hallie wanted more."

"Yes." he saw again Hallie, sitting sullenly, not accepting their reassurances nor comments that she was better off without Laura. She acted as if they owed her something.

"Anyway, " he continued. " she can't bring Laura back. She has to learn that the role of High Priestess, outside of the stage, is not for her.' He frowned because there were plenty of opportunities for Hallie to assume that role if she looked hard enough for them. Next time, when they met, would they be enemies? He hoped that Hallie regained her senses before that."

Then his attention turned to Buffy "Your problem is whata Laura promised you, isn't it?"

"It was worthless, But I betrayed you for it."

He laughed "Buffy, don't be so self-centered. Practically everybody turned against me for one reason or another. Why should I single you out?"

She spread her hands.

"And anyway, that's not what is bothering you." He put his arm around her shoulders. "Come, tell me what is eating you."

She shook her head. "It is nothing, really."

"It is something, what is it?"

"Dirk." she confessed "He was a creep. And he was the best I could do. I can't attract someone decent. Only people like John Yeager."

"Dirk wasn't a creep" Barnabas said softly "He could have made a very decent guy if he had had better luck. You should not be ashamed of mourning him. But don't be unhappy for him. He's free and at peace now."

"But why can't I attract someone who is worth it?" she insisted "what's wrong with me? Even Pearce wouldn't touch me, that time we fixed the horses."

Barnabas laughed remembering that caper. "Maybe you area looking in the wrong place for them."

"Why can't you..."

"Love you as a woman?"

"It does not have to be love. Just enough to find me desirable."

"Buffy, Buffy. You don't know what your are asking. Just use you like a household appliance?"

"What's wrong with that? You certainly use me in other ways."

"Did Quentin use you like that?"

"Not while Maggie lived. And when he got serious with Roxanne, he stopped coming to me."

"That was wrong, Buffy. You are not a convenience, but a human being... I got in trouble for treating Angelique that way, and she made me pay... and pay... So I know that it is wrong. If I use you, it is because my condition makes me use human beings for... feeding. But I will not single you out for sexual exploitation, any more than I do that with Louella, or Frances, or Alma, or any of the other people I use. You are a person, Buffy. You are worth something to yourself. And if I don't use you the way you expect, it is not because I value you too little, but because I value you too much for it."

Before Buffy could answer, a knock a the door caught their attention.

It was Carolyn.

"Carolyn!" Barnabas said with surprise. "You want to see me?"

"Aren't you going to invite me in? I have something that it is yours."

Barnabas let her in, trying to act relaxed "Is there anything that Buffy can offer you? Coffee? Tea? Sherry?"

"Scotch. On the rocks."

"Scotch I have. I am not sure how I stand with ice. I don't think that knocking an icicle from the window will do."

"How about some brandy, then?"

"That, I have" he poured the liquid in her glass, wondering why she was there. Finally he had to ask. "How's Edmund?"

"He's fine. He seems a bit confused still, but he's accepted me as his mother. He and Roger are very good pals. As for Quentin." she shrugged "he keeps out of the way, which suits me fine. He's just not cut to be a father. You can visit Edmund, if you want to."

"Carolyn!" he said with surprise.

"I mean it. I have explained to him, as best I could, that you will never hurt him, that you are a good man, and that you love him."

Barnabas' jaw dropped. He stammered but could not manage an intelligible sound. He looked at Carolyn as if he was not sure that it was her talking.

"You just can't believe that I am not acting like a bitch." she said, evenly "God knows that I have earned it. but then you have earned worse yourself. Well, in short, I came here to make peace with you."

"I always wanted it."

"Yes. You did. I don't say that it is going to be easy. Not at first. But we could work something out. " She extended her hand. "Do you want to give it a try?"

He shook hands with her. "A truce then, which we hope will be soon more,"

She made a face. "I wonder if you'll say that after you see what I brought you." she pulled out her package. "Lucie Staszak found these in the Parallel Time room. They are from William H. Loomis. He also included news."

* * *

Willie kissed Louella "You all right, baby?"

"Yes. I am all right. How about you?"

"Well enough to go home. I will not be able to enter the Boston Marathon, but I'll be back in training soon. Where will we go? Our home is still burned. And Chris' place needs to be fixed after all that shootout. Do we have to move in with Barnabas?"

"Actually the house is in pretty good shape. The townspeople were so ashamed for trying to lynch us that they pitched in, in an old fashioned barn raising, and fixed Chris' place, and did enough repair to our home so we can move in. There will be a lot more repairs needed, but you'll enjoy making them."

"So we have a place to stay..."

"Yes."

"Thanks, babe..." he squeezed her hand "It will be great to be back there, the two of us." he smiled "soon to be the three of us. By the way, don't you think it is time we decided on names? What about Susan if it is a girl?"

"I still like Pearl. Or Wilhelmina."

"And if it is a boy, William."

"How about Hollinshead Junior?"

"Don't you dare! I hate that name!"

"We could shorten it to Holly"

"I will never have a son called Holly! A daughter, maybe. No, not even a daughter."

"Barnabas suggested Jeremiah."

"Of course, he would. And if it is a girl, Josette or Millicent?"

"How do you know?"

"I know him."

"I would not mind Josette, but Millicent? Who is called Millicent nowadays?"

"Did you tell him that?"

"Diplomatically of course. How's he doing, by the way?"

"You want to know if that story of him sleeping in my bed is true." Willie said, laughing.

"Well... I don't imply there was anything... irregular about it."

"You still can't forget Quentin's lies... Look, he turned himself into a bat and let me stroke him like a teddy bear."

"But that's weird!"

"Yes. he's weird."

Louella laughed. "I guess he can still surprise me."

* * *

"Zeb is suing you?" And you are not contesting it?" Barnabas could not understand it.

"For false arrest and assault." George said bitterly "he's got a good case."

"But it wasn't your fault. I thought he understood it."

"Well, something must have changed his mind."

"But why?"

"Somehow he found out that I was gay. Since he hates faggots, the temptation to get one of them proved irresistible."

"Are you sure?"

"He called me a faggot to my face. Yes. He knows."

Barnabas thought about it. "How did he know?"

"Probably someone who should have kept his mouth shut talked in front of him."

"I don't think it was that. When I explained it to him I talked to Jessica. She said they were going to straighten up papers. Dave's papers." he looked at George. "I know that you wrote love letters to him. I know that he did not destroy them."

"Those letters?... On, God, I wrote them so long ago." he blushed slightly "they were explicit. He tried to teach me to be more cautious, but I was just a dumb kid. And you think that Zeb must have found them?"

"He might. I will have to talk to Jessica about it."

"If it is true, he will never forgive me for it. It isn't like it was with you. You only killed the man. I killed Zeb's fantasy of him."

"Maybe we could explain.."

"Explain what? That Dave was a pervert? A filthy faggot that corrupted children?"

"It wasn't like that."

"No, it wasn't. For one thing, we were not children. But Zeb will not see it that way. Dave wasn't just a dirty old man. He dealt honorably with his boys. He did not love us the way we loved him, and he could be merciless in getting rid of old lovers." he laughed a small laugh " It took me a while to understand what a bastard he could be about certain things... But he liked us, and did right by us. There isn't one of his boys who has not made something of himself."

"You know the other boys?"

"They are grown men now. Why does it matter?"

"We can give Zeb the list and tell him that if he does not withdraw his complaint, everybody will know how his uncle spent his off-duty hours."

"I can't do that."

"But I can. Dave asked me specifically to protect you from Zeb. And I will do what it takes. And what it takes now is a bit of blackmail, and some reality check for Zeb. You know, this way, Zeb can hate us both equally."

"Barnabas... I want you to know... Zeb is not the first prisoner I beat up."

He told him about Julia. Barnabas was surprised... "I never knew..." he said.

"So, if you want to pull out..."

"As I said, I _did_ promise Dave to protect you... as for that... well, there was so much damage done, and so much pain, that one bit more won't make a difference."


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

"Well, you look well enough to go home." Kenneth said to Willie. "As a matter of fact, you are leaving today."

"That's great. I feel fine, and Louella has been telling me about things I need to fix up at home."

"Don't overdo it. You still need to take it easy. And while Louella is healthy, she should take it easy too."

"That's what Julia tells me, too."

"She does?" Kenneth scowled at hearing her name. "Indeed?"

"By the way, how come you two have separated? You seemed to get along so well."

"You didn't get the whole story."

"Lying there, nobody bothered to tell me the full news. I couldn't even get it out of Barnabas. And that is something. Why? What is between you two?"

"It had to happen. I found out certain things about her. Certain things I can't overlook."

"But what could that be? She does not..." then he realized what it had to be. "It is Woodard, right?"

"So you know about it?"

"I have known about it for quite a while. Don't forget that I was here from the start."

"And you were railroaded into a mental institution. Well, the way I was raised, I don't consider Murder One to be a joke."

"Neither do I. But I also know both Barnabas and Julia. I think that they should be allowed to put this behind them. I don't want to see them suffer again for this. They got enough of it already, both of them."

"We don't have the same definition of 'enough'. Mr. Loomis. "Kenneth said stiffly.

"But what more do you want? Would you be happy if Julia killed herself? She came close to it.""

"Yes. She did. And she never confided in me." he said bitterly "she never trusted me enough for that."

"It was not easy for her."

"She kept secrets from me with Barnabas. It was to him that she went when she needed help. And he practically kicked me out of the room, saying I had no right to interfere between the two of them."

"It had to be Barnabas. He had wounded her. He had to make her well again."

"I was her husband! She should have trusted me more!"

Willie studied him shrewdly "What is it that you actually resent? Her being an accessory to murder, or her not confiding in you?"

"That has nothing to do!"

"Kenneth" Willie shook his head, amused. "you might have gone to college and learned a lot of fancy words, but there are things that I know better than you."

* * *

"Yes" Jessica confirmed Barnabas' suspicions "he did not decide to prosecute Sheriff Brant until he started going over the papers. Until then he agree with me that it wasn't Brant's fault. I mean everybody in town got caught. Why single him out? It could have been us."

"But now he does not think that way."

"No." she shook her head "he has these moods, you see. And when he gets into one of them nothing can move him. If only I could understand why he acts this way... Yes." she added slowly "I think it is something that he found in the papers. I think that he carries some of them in his pocket at all times."

"Probably the answer is there."

"But what could that be? Those papers are old. Most of them should be thrown away. Why would they have to do with Brant?"

"Well, I would like to see them" Barnabas knew what the papers were. Still, he wanted confirmation.

"All right. Come in real late, and make sure you don't wake Zeb."

* * *

Delia wrapped the whip around her hand. It was the real thing. Not one of the toys usually sold for SM games. Properly used it could maim and even kill. In fact, it had been sued to keep the cargo quiet in the slave ships.

And it was hers now.

* * *

Zeb was deeply asleep. He always slept like that, Jessica assured him. She, herself, was a light sleeper, that was why she was now watching him read the letters.

"Are you sure that is what you want? We got other papers if you want to make sure."

Barnabas winced involuntarily. His stint as a civil servant had given him an allergy to anything that sounded like paperwork. "No, I think this is it."

He could not keep from blushing as he read the love letters that George had written. There was genuine love and affection in George's word. The letters were also emphatic, with all the self-dramatization that the young are so prone to, but the sincerity was undeniable.

They were also crude. Explicit. There was no way to ignore what George and Dave had done to each other. He could understand how Zeb had found them shocking.

Zeb was just the wrong man to read the letters...

"What is it?" Jessica insisted.

"Love letters. From George Brant to Zeb's uncle."

"Love letters? From Brant?" her eyes widened. "You mean that Uncle Dave was... gay?"

"Yes. He was gay."

"But Brant... him. I'd never have suspected... Oh, well. I can understand why Zeb wants to get him."

"Yes. It explains everything. " he looked at Zeb and spoke softly. "Why did you have to be so destructive? Julia, me... I can understand.. But George, why would you want to do it? What satisfaction could you get out of it?"

* * *

Hallie laborer over the letter she was writing to Barnabas. She did not mean a word of it, but she sensed that she should write such a letter to allay suspicion.

She would bring Laura back, no matter what it took, no matter how long it took.

"... I am singing again. There is a strain in my voice, but I think that it will wear out soon. It give me the opportunity to study deeper into the roles I want to play..."

Lies, lies. She would never sing like she wanted to. Like Laura could make it possible for her to sing... not the way she sang when the fire burst out of her body.

"...I never thanked you for inviting me to your home. And I am ashamed that I repaid you that way..."

She was not ashamed. She regretted only that she had failed. She still remembered that her name had once been Maude Browning. She still remembered what Laura had promised her, what Laura would have given her. As for him... he owed her.

Unlike Buffy and Frank she would accept no blame for what had happened. She would not curse Laura, Louella _had_ promised them the child. David belonged with his mother. That was the way things should be.

Barnabas was a Creature of Darkness. Laura Creature of Light. She would side with the Light against the Darkness.

So she wrote more lies, knowing that soon she might be invited again to his house, and that the next confrontation would end differently.

* * *

Barnabas was surprised to find Kenneth waiting for him.

"It is quite late." he said lamely.

"Yes. It is. I have been waiting for you for quite a while. I want to ask you one thing."

"One thing?"

"Yes. I have been giving it some thought. Maybe I should give Julia another chance."

Barnabas did not like the tone in which he said it, but recognized that he had some right to it.

"In order for that to be possible, I want you to sign this."

"Sign this? What is it?"

"Your formal resignation form Wyncliffe."

"And you'll forgive Julia if I sign it?"

"I think that you are a bad influence on her."

Barnabas closed his eyes. Kenneth could be insufferable. Yet, he had a point...

And it would be best for Julia, wouldn't it?"

"I would rather put this in my own words." he said. "this way she'll think it was my idea."

"As you wish. Just make sure that by tomorrow she gets it."

Barnabas sat at the typewriter. How much of a relationship would Kenneth allow him and Julia to have? Well,, Julia had right to a life of her own. She had sacrificed too much already.

"Is this good enough?" he asked Kenneth when he was done.

Kenneth read it. "Good enough. A bit too mushy for.. for what you are. But as you said it, in your own words."

"Tell her goodbye for me."

"I will."

* * *

Frank Torrance held his glass against the light. Back at the beginning. Back at the Blue Whale, trying to kill time. Trying to forget...

Only a salamander... but she could be so good in bed. She could make you believe she loved you so much...

And what he had done for her... He was ashamed of it now. Still, he could not wholly regret it. For he had had her in his arms

He had tried to kill Angelique... Barnabas... he had tried to kill Louella.

But it was not really him who did those things. And Barnabas refused to blame him for it.

He was just going to concentrate on feeling sorry for himself.

That was when he saw her, from her own table, lifting her glass at him.

Delia Harding. She and Derek had split recently. He did not know the details. Rumor were that her sex life was unusual.

Which was better than what he had now.

He moved to her table. "Is this seat taken?" he asked.

"You can see it isn't Can't you think of a better opening line?"

"Not at the moment."

"All right. You'll have to do."

Frank sat down. "Your place or mine?"

Delia smiled "You must be curious as to my equipment, are you not?"

"Yes, I am." Frank admitted.

"Well, at my place you'll get to see it."


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Frank whimpered. It was all he could do as Delia moved closer to him, the knife in her hand. This was not a game, this was for real.

Delia sat on the bed and pressed the point of the knife to his naked leg. She made a small cut and watched the blood flow. Se did the same to the other leg.

Frank's terror amused her. She had barely touched him. But his imagination would make a better job than she could.

She had been such a fool. With Derek, that last time, she had to weaken him. But Frank had lied down by himself and allowed himself to be tied, with only a slight complaint that the bindings were too tight.

He evidently had hoped for a new, exciting experience. So he shouldn't complain. That was what he was getting.

She nicked his upper arm, then ran the point of her blade from his navel down to the crotch, leaving a thin read line behind it.

Frank shook uncontrollably and tried to free himself. He couldn't. Delia was an old hand at playing those games and when it came to shackles, she used only the best.

She got up again, laid off the knife and move to where she kept her whip. She rolled in on her arm.

Frank's eyes dilated even more than they already were. he struggled once more, and then closed his eyes and turned his face away, so as not to see the lash coming down to him.

Delia unrolled the whip. Two strokes of this could do plenty of damage.

She should have bound him face down. In the position he was the risks were greater, and she did not want to end with a corpse in her hands.

And she had to hit him where it would not show.

Still, she had to use the whip. It demanded to be fed. Too many years of inactivity after drinking slave blood kin the ship. It had to be used sparingly, carefully...

Carefully when it could be used to kill a man! Or at least cripple him into uselessness, thus making it necessary to throw him to the sharks.

And now it was reduced to this playacting... playacting when it once had had the reality.

Delia lifted her arm. She had to use it... and she had to be careful, too.

She cracked it expertly by his side. It fell harmlessly in the bed. But the tip curled and bit into the shoulder.

Frank stiffened in pain as the whip rested on the flowing blood.

It was not enough, but it would have to do. Delia dragged it over Frank's body, letting it rest for a few moment over the open wound. The blood, white man's blood, did not taste any different from black slaves' blood.

Then Delia wrapped the whip around Frank's genitals, not tightly, more to scare than to give pain.

Enough for her. Now Frank had right to some fun of his own. Dutifully, she bend down over him, and began working on his pleasure.

* * *

The paper burned Barnabas' fingers. Not that he had any doubts as to what he planned to do. He owed too much to George to back off now. But the irony of it stung him. Zeb had magnanimously forgiven him for murder, only to try to destroy George whose only crime had been to love the same man.

And now he would be the target for Zeb's hatred. He was about to destroy the last illusions Zeb had about his uncle. And he hated it. For Zeb, and for Dave, too. He was going to brand him a dirty old man in Zebu's eyes. Even if Dave had made no bones about his sexual habits, it still hurt.

Zeb looked at him with hostility. "What do you want?""

"To talk to you about Sheriff Brant."

"It is none of your business."

"George is my friend."

"So? Julia was Uncle Dave's friend."

Barnabas grimaced. "George does not deserve this."

"Number one, he's guilty of police brutality. Number two, you got off easy on the killing. Don't push your luck."

"Just read this." He handed Zeb the list than George had put together.

"These are names. What of it?"

"These are the names of the boys your uncle slept with.. All of them before George set eyes on him."

Zeb's lips disappeared into a thin line "You lie!" he shouted at him.

"I don't" Barnabas said sadly "Whether you like it or not, George Brant was not the first to... to have sexual relations with your uncle. He was only the last. If there was seduction, George was the one seduced, not the other way around.

"Isn't it enough that you killed him? Do you have to drag his through the mud?"

"Not mud. He did not see it that way. He made no excuses for his needs and tastes." Barnabas spoke quickly "If he was here, he'd say the same."

"He was no pervert!"

"No, he was not. He was a good, decent man. Who was not sexually aroused by women. That was the way it was with him. He had many boys. And he dealt fairly with all of them. If he used them, he also made sure that they were not hurt and that in a way, they were better off for having known him."

Zeb was shaking his head, too enraged to be able to speak clearly.

"Zeb" Barnabas spoke softly "why do you hate homosexuals?"

"I don't hate them... I just think that they... they.."

"Your uncle was one of them. You cannot change that. And there re only two ways you'll be able to live with yourself. Hate him too. Or stop hating at all."

"George Brant seduced him."

"You don't believe that. He was the last of a series of boys, no more. And some of them were underage. Leave George alone."

"And if I don't, you'll publish this list?"

"I'd rather not."

"I can't let George off the hook. Not after what he did."

"Dave would not have wanted you to do this."

He looked at Barnabas glacially, murderously "And you presume to speak for him?"

"Someone has to."

* * *

Iris, Violet, and her son, Peter had just arrived home and were busy unpacking. They would stay with Iris until Violent finally found a place of her own. That might take a long time. Violet was pathologically dependent on others. All efforts to make her stand on her own two feet had only led to creeps like her late husband. He had fostered Violet's dependency, getting a kick out of her inability to manage without his help, and exacting a slavish devotion out of her that way. Then he had died, leaving her with no money, no skills, no experience, just a sister in Maine whom he could not stand and that he had forbidden Violet to see again.

"I want food!" Peter shouted.

Violet jumped up. Peter was not her husband, but he was her son, and a male that demanded attention.

"Not now, Violet" Iris said.

"I want food!" Peter demanded, his hands to his hips.

"Don't you know how to say 'please'?" Iris asked, disgusted.

"I don't have to say please. This is my house!"

"This is _my_ house, young man. And you better learn manners, or you'll go to bed hungry."

"Don't be so hard on him, Iris."

"Hard? He's spoiled rotten, and something should be done about it."

"He just takes after his father."

"That's what's wrong with him."

* * *

Buffy certainly looked unhappy when he passed her on the corridor.

"You still miss him." he said to her."

"Who?"

"Dirk Wilkins."

"No, I don't. And he was a creep, anyway."

"But you miss him, in spite of all that."

"No... well, yes. I do. But he was not worth it. I never attract anyone who is worth it."

"Buffy, it was not Dirk's fault that he was Laura's slave. He had to obey her."

"Then he never loved me."

Barnabas did not have an answer to that. At least she did not know about Dirk bedding George. It would hurt her even more to know about it, even if Dirk had little choice as to whom he slept with."

"He was not free to love on his own." he finally said.

"And now he is free, isn't he?"

"Yes. He is free. But he will not come to you. and you deserve a flesh and blood lover, not a ghost."

"But I want him!"

"I wanted Josette, too. It took me a long time to understand that we could never be together again, no matter how much we loved each other. I hoped against hope that we could still... that she would come back to me... You can't bring Dirk back no more than I could bring Josette back. It is useless."

"I loved him. Damn it, I still do!"

"I know that. But you could never share your life with him. There will be another man."

"There won't be. It is too late for me. They all want young girls."

"You included. You never looked on me as a woman."

"Buffy, Buffy, must we go through that again?"

"Dirk was the best I could do, and now he's gone."

Barnabas was about to answer that when Julia's arrival stopped him.

Julia was livid. She threw Barnabas's resignation on the couch.

"Did you write that?"

"Julia..."

"It was Kenneth who told you to write it, didn't he?"

"I thought it was best."

"Kenneth came to you and said that he would forgive me if you got out of my life, right?"

Barnabas could not deny it. "He said that it would be inappropriate for me to continue my relationship with you."

"Inappropriate" she snorted "Kenneth is a jerk."

"Julia..."

"I want him back, yes. But not if he starts extracting conditions. Not if this means that he'll start firing my own staff without notifying me. What else do I have to give up to be in his good graces? Wyncliffe? My career?"

"Well, Julia, you have to understand that I am a special case."

"You are one of my therapists. And, if I say so, a good one. You are not fired until I fire you. And I an not doing it, under any circumstances. Understood?"

"But Kenneth..."

"Kenneth.." she shrugged "I can live without his forgiveness. I might need my own, but that is a different matter. I expect you back to work next Monday. Understood?"


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

George drank slowly, relaxing his body after a hard day's work.

"So it is over." he said. "Zeb withdrew his complaint."

"I am glad to hear that." Barnabas said quietly "it was rough."

"I know. I feel sorry for Zeb, too."

"He just found out that his uncle had feet of clay. In the long run., he'll be better off for knowing it. Certainly Dave would not want to be remembered as a plaster saint.. But still, I had little right to interfere.. except for my promise... Zeb said that I should not push my luck. I had gotten off easy on the murder rap."

"You got off, but not easy. It cost you."

"The beating wasn't so bad."

"It cost you Dave." George stared at Barnabas. "I know what he did to you. You got to know him, to like him, even to love him, only to lose him like that" he snapped his fingers. "I know how it hurts." I had him more than you did, and it still hurts. I took Dirk Wilkins because he promised to bring Dave back to me. Or make me stop caring... But I had him. You never did. Not even for a little while."

Barnabas nodded "George, why do you love me?" he asked gently.

"I don't know."

"Was it because I owe you a lover?"

"Don't. Don't say that." George said heatedly. Then he calmed down. "I am sorry. You have the right. Do you owe me your body in exchange for Dave's. Do I have the right to ask you to come through?"

"Is that why?"

"I know that I don't want to rape you. And making that kind of demand IS rape. Emotional blackmail, if you prefer. I don't want you in bed to settle scores. I want your body, but I want you more. When, and if, you tell me you love me, I want to believe it."

"Did you ever think of taking me by force?"

"At times. But never seriously. It helped to know that you were stronger than I was." George laughed. "But still I kept having those random thoughts. You know, when Sabrina trussed you up to be sent to Parallel Time I could not help thinking that I could have my way with you then and there. It horrified me to realize what I was thinking. Redwolf's men would help me hold you down, and maybe they would want their turn. And Sabrina would see in it an useful object lesson for you not to make problems for Maggie.. I am ashamed that I kept thinking it."

"But you only thought it. You did nothing of the sort. You were as helpful to me as it was possible to be."

"I did? Well, I kept it well hidden then..."

"George" Barnabas said wistfully "I wish that I could love you."

* * *

Willie surveyed the attic. Not bad for somebody who had been told to take it easy. Why should he take it easy? He felt fine! And this attic showed it.

Dr. Anderson was a worrywart. And then, he was too busy wondering whether to forgive Julia or not.

Willie snickered at that. For what he knew of Julia, it was too late. If Kenneth suddenly forgave Julia she would tell him where to shove his forgiveness. And Julia would be right in doing so.

The memories came back about those early times... It had been so long ago... And everything was so different then... Barnabas was so different... Yet, even then he had gotten enough glimpses of what Barnabas could be if he ever allowed himself to know it.

"He framed you for Maggie's abduction!"

"Huh?" Willie lifted his head, surprised.

Jason McGuire looked at him, in that mocking way Willie knew so well.

"Jason..."

"You had forgotten me, Willie?" Yes, of course, you did. I am not respectable enough for Mr. Loomis. But for my old pal Willie? Not respectable enough for an ex-con? And by the way, why were you in the joint?"

"Jason" Willie spoke slowly "I warned you to get out."

"You got rid of my body for him. You stayed with him. And he rewarded you for it."

"It was the Leviathan that did it! They arranged it! You knew too much about Paul and Carolyn!"

"You owe me, Willie. And so does Barnabas. He owes a lot of people. Carl Collins, Schuyller Rumson, Reverend Trask, Suki Forbes, Isthvan... And we are all going to collect on it."

They were all around Willie now.

"What...?" But he need not ask them what they wanted. Jason had told him. They wanted revenge on Barnabas and they were going to use him for it.

"Don't do that.": he pleaded with them. "Don't hurt him."

"His loyalty is touching. isn't it, Reverend?" Jason said to Trask.

"Loyalty to a servant of Satan." Trask said smugly "but it is not hopeless for him. He can be made to see the error of his ways."

They closed in on him, their hands outstretched and their eyes shining with hatred.

"No!" Willie screamed, trying to reach the door. "Don't touch me!"

The doorknob was only a few inches away. He extended his hand, pushed himself to touch it. he had to get out of the room...

Trask' hand hit him in the chest.

Then other hands came down on him.

He fell down, screaming and bleeding.

* * *

"How could Willie's wounds have reopened?" Barnabas irritation could barely conceal his fear. "They couldn't have. They had plenty of time to close properly."

"Evidently they reopened." Kenneth grumbled. "I can't explain it either. Maybe you'd like another physician on the case."

Barnabas shook his head "I am not blaming you. It is just that it makes no sense. Why Willie? Why him again? Didn't he have enough already?"

Kenneth said nothing to that.

"What about Louella? How is she bearing up?"

"Why don't you go see for yourself?"

She was sitting on the waiting room, weeping silently. The baby kept growing in her. In about two months it would be born.

What a time for this to happen to Willie, Barnabas thought as he saw her.

"I am sorry, Louella," he said.

She sprang up and grabbed his arms. "Why?" she asked "Why now?"

"I don't know."

Louella sobbed. "It is Laura, doing this."

"Laura?" Barnabas was surprised. "Why her?"

"I promised her my baby. I said that I would give it to her and I did not. She is punishing me for it."

"She can't now. She is powerless. I made sure of that."

"But if she can't, why did this happen?"

"Sometimes these things happen all by themselves."

"It didn't happen by itself." Louella said between sobs. "I know it didn't. Somebody caused it. Somebody who hates us. If it isn't Laura, who can it be? Jenny?"

"Jenny?" Barnabas frowned at that. "No, don't blame yourself. You didn't do this to him."

"How do you know?"

"I know it. You did nothing to make Willie sick again."

"He would have never been shot if we hadn't been in that house, and we would not have been there if I hadn't given my baby to Laura. If I... If I...

She was incoherent now. He drew her close to himself and let her cry. If Willie would not recover... if he were to die.

He tried not to think of it. Not Willie, not this way...

But the fear in him would not lie still. If it happened... it was senseless,. But no more senseless than Stokes' death.."

Not now. But when? Willie was a man and all men must die, sooner or later. Except him who would one day visit their graves, one by one.

Sooner or later he would visit Willie's grave.

But not now... not now, please.

Louella sobbed again, drawing even closer to him. He put her head over his chest, his shoulder being too high for her and patter her back.

They were close, very close. Sharing the same pain, the same fear. Needing reassurance from each other.

He had bared his fangs and had them over her skin when Kenneth burst into the room.

"How dare you!" he shouted, pulling him away "Can't you see she's pregnant?"

Barnabas stared at him in surprise. Yes, he knew that his head was tilted at the right angle for biting. He knew that his lips were pulled back. Still...

He let Louella go, shaking. The skin wasn't broken. There was no trace of blood, either to see, or to taste in his mouth.

Kenneth stared at him mercilessly. "What were you trying to do?"

Louella looked at Kenneth "It is not his fault." she pleased.

Barnabas shook his head. "No, Louella, he's right. It was my fault. I should have remembered."

Kenneth's stern expression did not change. "I think it would be better if you kept your distance from her."

"Yes, it would be better." Barnabas agreed miserably.

Louella sobbed. "It is my fault, all of it."

Barnabas looked at her, and back to Kenneth. "Better have someone stay with her. Maybe Frances, now that she is recovered."

"Not Frances. She's too close to you. She'd let you near her again."

"For God's sake, Kenneth." Barnabas began to get irritated. "do you think that I can't keep her away from her on my own?"

"I can't be sure about it."

"I admit that I lost my head. I should not stay alone with her, not with both being so upset. But there is no need to go around hanging garlic from the windows. I do have a head in working order, and I will keep away from her. You know me."

"Do I know you? Do I know Julia?"


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Barnabas glided into the room. He had not been inside this room for months. Not since Iris had gone to straighten up her sister's affairs. Now she had come back and he needed her.

He could always talk to her, tell her what was wrong and ask her advice. And he needed it so much, now.

He saw the body on the bed, breathing regularly in a deep sleep.

He sat on the bed, unwilling to disturb her, but needing to.

Iris and her quick temper. Iris who had carried a chip on her shoulder for far too long. The fights that kept coming between them. Oriana had brought an added strain. Iris came to his house mostly to scream at him...

Yet, if she could only let go of her anger, she could be a good lover and a good friend.

He caressed her hair, lightly. He needed her. With all her faults, he needed her. Specially now with Willie so sick. He needed someone to listen to his troubles, and he didn't dare ask Julia, not after getting her in trouble with Kenneth.

He bent over Iris, still not daring to touch her.

"Iris" he said "It's me, Barnabas. I wonder if you'd have me back."

Iris continued sleeping.

"I know it was my fault. I wanted Oriana, you see, even if she wanted even less of a permanent relationship than you did. And Roxanne... I felt that I could not leave her, all alone...

Iris still slept.

"I need you, Iris. Please talk to me."

His lips touched her cheek through the hair covering it.

Iris moved her face a bit, opened her eyes and began turning her head.

"You are not Iris!" Barnabas said. "Who are you?"

Violet saw the face peering t her, the fangs showing slightly under the upper lip, the burning eyes. Just as they had that time in 1968...

She screamed and tried to get up, banging her head on the headboard.

"I am sorry" Barnabas spluttered "I...I took you for Iris...I am sorry. I must be in the wrong house."

"What's going on?" Iris came and turned the light. "what are you doing?"

"Iris..." Barnabas turned to her. "Please tell her I mean no harm. I took her for you." he looked at her again. "Is she Violet?"

"Yes. She is." Iris ran to her sister. "It is all right. He's harmless."

Violet stopped screaming, but began making frightened noises.

"And, by the way, why did you come here?" Iris asked him, not too cordially "What was so important that you could not phone first?"

"I...I..." Barnabas was taken aback by her severity. "I wanted to start our relationship all over again."

"You wanted me to take you back?"

"Yes."

"And you thought that you only had to ask. You think that I have nothing better to do than wait for you to make up your mind as to which woman you really want?"

"Iris..."

"Oriana only wanted a fling, and Roxanne did not want you at all. So it is back to old Iris. Is that it?"

Violet watched them with a mixture of terror and amusement. Yes, this was the same creature that had once attacked her, the face that she sometimes saw in her nightmares. But he was now being bullied by Iris. And he was letting himself be bullied... Iris always knew how to bully others.

"I am sorry, Barnabas." Iris ton said that she was not sorry at all. "I am not at your convenience. You can't throw me away and expect to pick me up again as if I had not feelings at all. You threw me over for that reporter kid. You always wanted them young, didn't you? She certainly was young enough for you."

"Iris..."

"Don't try to explain. I am not interested."

* * *

Barnabas paced the waiting room.

"Willie won't recover consciousness faster because you are wearing out the carpet." Julia reminded him.

"So what do you suggest I do?" there was no sarcasm in his voice, only pain. "All I can do is wait, and I am not very good at it."

"Kenneth said that Willie is recovering nicely and that he expects no trouble."

"He didn't expect trouble, either when he discharged him. Yet his wound reopened. Even if they had already formed scars."

Julia nodded. Barnabas was right. They could not be sure of anything.

"It would be better if he saw Louella first when he recovers consciousness."

"I agree. But I want to see him still."

"It will be a while until you can. Why not go away and go whatever you have to do?"

"I can't. " he did not want to talk about the fiasco with Iris. "You know how it is between me and Willie. If anything should happen while I was busy elsewhere..."

"But why should it be so?"

"That's the way it is..."

Julia drew a deep breath. She had to ask him about what had almost happened, but he found it uncomfortable. He had adjusted to his condition, but still could be uneasy about his own particular need.

Well, it had to be asked. "What happened between you and Louella? Kenneth said something nasty about it..."

"I...I almost lost my head. I wasn't properly hungry. I just wanted some reassurance, some affections. And so did she. We were just trying to comfort each other... And I forgot that she was pregnant. Fortunately Kenneth caught me on time. It won't happen again."

"Not if you keep away from her."

"Which is what I intend to do." he grimaced. "I have learned that in times of stress I do the wrong things. I do things of which I am ashamed later. But attacking Louella won't be one of them."

* * *

Willie looked dazed at the room he was in. He could not recognize it. He had never been here before.

It was only when the nurse came in that he realized that he was in a hospital.

"Why am I here?" he asked. "what happened to me?"

"It is all right, Mr. Loomis." the nurse said reassuringly. "You are safe now."

"What?...How?"

"Just take it easy." she said sternly "don't exert yourself."

She went about the tasks of caring for him while at the same time trying to reassure him with her words.

Why was he in the hospital? He could not remember what had happened to him. At least this was not the jail infirmary, just a regular hospital...

"Your wife is here. She wants to see you."

Wife? What wife? he had no wife... unless it was that cute piece that sometimes worked with Jason.

Jason... Jason was dead. But how? How did he know that?

...He had buried Jason in some secret room...

Had he killed Jason for his share of the loot?

He felt the memories trying to come back to him, felt that if he only kept at it a bit more he would know what had happened.

After an eternity like this he finally saw the door open, saw the woman come in.

Louella bit her lip and tried to be brave. he was going to be all right, they had told her. He soon would go home again... as they had told her before. And he looked so pale, so weak.

Who was she? Why did she look at him like this? Like she knew him.

Then he noticed her body.

"Are you trying to palm off the kid on me?" he asked with more amusement than anger. "It ain't mine, lady."

"Willie..."

"I didn't do it with you."

"But Willie, don't you remember me?"

"I never saw you before in my life."

* * *

Louella was still sobbing when Barnabas got back to the waiting room.

"He doesn't want me. He thinks it is my fault what happened to him."

"Don't think that." Julia' voice was imperious, in the half-irritated mood she assumed when she was getting tired of hearing the same piece of nonsense over and over. Yet it was also a concerned voice.

"What is the problem?" Barnabas asked.

"Willie. He says it is not his child."

Barnabas sighed. "I'll have to talk sense into him, them" he said.

Julia looked up..."Barnabas, Willie just does not remember..."

But Barnabas was gone.

Julia sighed. Well, Barnabas was going to find the hard way.

* * *

Willie drifted between sleep and awareness... Jason was dead... he had buried him himself...

And Barnabas watched him do it... watched him, mocking him as he buried his friend in an unmarked grave. Alone, unnoticed, unmourned. His friend Jason, slain by a monster...

And Maggie babbling in the cell. He had begged Barnabas for compassion. And the answer "I choose not to."

And the beatings... and the threats... Barnabas' angry eyes staring at him...

"Willie? Willie?"

He opened his eyes to the voice, the angry voice.

"No! No!" Willie screamed "Don't touch me! I didn't tell them nothing' I didn't ! I swear! Please! I didn't! I didn't!"

"Willie, what's the matter?"

"It wasn't me! I didn't tell them anything' about Maggie! I swear it! Please, don't hit me!"


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Barnabas stared numbly outside. He knew what Willie had meant. He knew why he rejected him now, why he couldn't recognize Luella.

But why? Why?

He heard Buffy come behind him but did not turn back.

"Is there anything else you want?" she asked him.

"Nothing." he answered without turning. "You can leave if you want to."

Buffy remained there, looking abashedly at his back.

"Is there something that _you_ want?" Sarcasm had begun to creep into his voice. He felt a need to lash out at someone for the misery he felt.

"I wanted to say that I am sorry."

"Sorry?" Involuntarily Barnabas snorted. It was not Buffy's fault that she had been used by Laura. Still, it had started with her...

"About Mr. Loomis, how is he doing?"

"As well as it might be expected." Barnabas said curtly.

"I am glad of that."

"Yes, you are." he felt the bitterness well up in him. "Was Dirk Wilkins good in bed?"

Buffy gasped, tried to find an answer, then left the room.

Barnabas continued staring ahead.

* * *

"It ain't me the kidnapper.." Willie said as he tossed in bed. "It was him, Barnabas... he killed Jason, too. He was going to kill Maggie. I wanted to warn her."

Julia wiped Willie's brow.

"Are you planning to pack him off to a nuthouse, like you did last time?" Kenneth asked, sardonically.

Julia didn't answer, talking more to herself than him as he said. "he's back in 1967. I tried to warn Barnabas of this, but he disappeared."

"You were concerned about Barnabas. weren't you?"

"Him and Willie both. And Louella. She's got into her head that it is all her fault."

Kenneth did not seem to hear this. "You have always been concerned about Barnabas. How much have you done for him? How many times have you done his dirty work?"

Julia felt exhausted. First Louella with her guilt feelings, then this thing with Willie and Barnabas. She didn't need Kenneth's sarcasm on top of it.

"Kenneth, I am tired. And so are you. We don't need to start a fight."

* * *

Buffy hugged her pillow. She was alone in her bed. No longer would Dirk come for her. No longer would he kiss her as he did, make love to her until she forgot herself in her arms.

Dirk was gone, and she missed him. That was why Barnabas would not accept her apology. Because he knew how he really felt. Because he knew that she would betray him again if Dirk asked her to.

Barnabas knocked at her door and she let him in.

"I need to apologize for what I said to you."

"There is no need. You area right."

"I had no right to say it. All I can say is that Willie is very close to me and that I am scared for him."

"I know that he is your best friend."

"Yes, he is. But he wasn't always that. For a few months he was my slave. I was very cruel to him, God forgive me. I beat him up and enjoyed it. Then he knew that I was to murder someone. He went off to war her and walked into a trap. He was shot several times, just like it happened now. And did want him to die so that he could not tell anyone what he knew about me... Buffy.." his voice came close to cracking "I can't forgive myself for it. Not now, when Willie is so ills again. I am not angry at you but at myself, can you understand that?"

"But it was my fault."

"It was no more your fault than anybody else's'" I had not right to single you out. I had no right to have you pay for my guilt."

* * *

"It is Laura's doing, isn't it?" Louella insisted "Is this how I am being punished?"

Julia sighed wearily. There was no way that she could convince Louella that she was wrong. In fact, she was not sure herself. There had to be a supernatural agency at work and Laura could not be ruled out completely.

Louella sobbed, twisting her handkerchief in her hands. Julia felt awkward. Barnabas would have handled it by hugging Louella, which was what she needed most. But she was not like Barnabas. This kind of emotional reaction was alien to her. She had trained herself to be coldly analytical at all times, and now it was second nature to her.

Louella kept weeping and Julia began to shiver... she could not. respond to raw emotions, but she had become vulnerable to them. She was not longer the Iron Lady. She had tears in her and it was like having an alien creature in her, making demands that she could not understand.

"It isn't your fault, Louella" she said "If it is anybody's fault, it is likely to be Barnabas'"

"Barnabas? Why him?"

"I don't know. But the fact is that the last thing that Willie remembers is his getting shot trying to warn Maggie about him."

* * *

"Iris filed a complaint against you." George told him "Attempted rape. I tried to talk her out of it."

"Attempted rape? I only wanted to talk to her and I mistook Violet for her."

"She's hopping mad. I hope that if I try a little harder she will withdraw it. Maybe if you give your word of honor never to get close. And I'll give her a serious talk about using the police to settle her personal scores. In the meantime, make yourself scarcer."

Barnabas shook his head, tears beginning to form in his eyes. "Now this, what else now? I only wanted to talk to her. I needed to talk to her."

"Next time, phone first. I am serious."

Barnabas nodded, then continued. "You know what happened to Willie?"

"He has amnesia, right?"

"He's back in 1967, right after he was shot. He fears and hates me."

George nodded. "It will pass. Amnesia following severe shock is not that rare. He will recover and it will be as if this had never happened."

Barnabas shook his head. "I am afraid, George. I thought that I would never see again that look in Willie's eyes."

George sighed. "Is that why you went to Iris? Because you wanted to talk to her about how worried you were about Willie?"

"Yes. You see, I had talked these things over with her before... She would listen, give me advice..."

"But you forgot that you had not parted on friendly terms with her. You could not expect to pick up where you left off, just like that."

"I know, but who can I talk about this? Not Julia, It is too close to her own wounds and she has not yet dealt with them fully. She is still trying to find her own way."

"What about me?"

"You?" Barnabas stared at George, not sure what he meant. "you want me to tell you...?"

"Like you used to tell Iris."

"You mean come to you? I... I..."

George smiled, a bit cynically "Still worrying about what price I might ask of you?"

"No." he lied.

"It is a pity that we do not have the same sexual orientation, isn't it? If we did, we would have no problem. We would either be lovers, or the question would never arise. ... All right." he got up. "I am going to throw all the official weight I can muster to make Iris withdraw that complaint."

* * *

"How many times did you kill for him?"

"Only once." Why did Kenneth keep harping on it? Didn't he have enough of it?

"Thank God for small blessings. At least you are not a mass murderer. You only committed one teeny weensy little murder."

"Kenneth" Julia said wearily "Don't you have enough?"

Kenneth's face twisted into a cruel mask. "No, I don't have enough. You married me because Barnabas would not have you. Isn't that true? Quite ironic. You killed for nothing. He would not give you a tumble, anyway."

"He... he was worth it." Why did Kenneth keep coming back, shouting those things at her, wearing her so? Hadn't she had enough? What more did Kenneth want? What more could he want?

"Worth it? Probably to you. He was the only one who mattered. Nothing else did. Not your friends, not your patients, not your oath as a doctor. You betrayed everybody who trusted you."

"Stop!" she shouted.. "It... it is over now."

"Over? Some things are never over. And I'll make sure this never is."

"But why?" She was almost crying now. "Why are you doing this? What is it to you?"

* * *

Barnabas hovered as mist over Willie's bed. He dared not assume human form and be recognized. he thought bitterly of lying in Willie's hand, in bat shape. That was no longer allowed him.

"I ain't the kidnapper!" Willie repeated in his sleep. "I didn't do nuthin' to Maggie! It was Barnabas. He forced me to bury Jason... Jason wouldn't go... Jason... get away... he's not alive... an' he's not dead, either. Jason! Jason!... Don't!"

Barnabas listened to all of it. Would he ever put tall that ugliness behind him? How many times had he thought he had? Yet now he was reliving it again...

The look of horror and hatred that Willie had given him... He wished he did not know that look so well, that he didn't know how such look had come about...

Willie moaned and turned. He was in pain. And there was no way that he could offer Willie any comfort, for Willie would not accept it. All that would happen would be that Willie would rip out his stitches.

He forced himself to float away until he came to where Julia was sitting, a cup of coffee in her hand, trying hard not to cry.

"Julia" he said numbly "What is happening to Willie? To us?"

Julia shrugged and made him sign to sit besides her. She lifted her head and he could see the tears beginning to form, saw how pale and haggard she looked now, how... defeated.

"What happened to you? What's wrong?"

"Everything. Kenneth's is giving me a bad time."

"Doesn't talk to you?"

She sighed. "If only he did that. No, he comes at me and yells. Accuses me of such things... and the worst part of it, is that it is true."

"Kenneth is a twerp." Barnabas said bitterly.

"No... yes. In a way, he is. But this... it is as if is not really him doing it. Maybe I never knew him at all.. But the Kenneth I thought I knew would not prod and abuse me so... The last time I thought he might hit me."

"Did he?"

"No. But I am not sure what will happen next time."


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

He was sorting his mail when Carolyn came to his door. He felt a shiver as he admitted her. He had just opened Liz's letter where she wondered if she could ever go back to Collinsport and see her daughter again... He wished so much to say that she could come, but he knew that Carolyn was not ready for it yet.

"I wanted to tell you that I am sorry for what happened to Willie."

"Thank you."

His voice was curt, tense. She wondered why it was so.

"You haven't come to see Edmund yet."

"I know... I will try to see him this week. If that is not too much bother for you." he added quickly.

"Of course not!"

"Well, at the times I can get there it is too late and he may be asleep. I can understand your not wanting to wake him up."

"If you tell me in advance, I can arrange it."

"Good. How's he?"

"Doing well. Reminds me a bit of David. Without the problems, thank God."

He was surprised to find no bitterness in her voice when she spoke of David.

"Well, he's a Collins. How's Roger?"

"Quite well. Edmund has done wonders for him. He barely talks of Nixon these days And Edmund has done wonders for me, too."

Barnabas nodded at that.

"You still don't believe me? You don't think that I have changed?" she asked bluntly.

"I believe it, but I am still accustoming myself to it."

"But why? Suddenly she was fierce "If you could live down your past, why can't I? I never did any of the things you did."

"I know you didn't."

"So why?"

"Why doesn't it happen overnight that people like and accept the new you?"

"Yes." she said, nodding.

"Because things take time. I know. In a way I was lucky that nobody knew me for what I was when I was at my worst. No one except Willie and Julia. And Maggie if she ever remembered."

"And me and David."

"Yes. And you two. So I had it easier than you did. Not too many people had to learn and accept that I changed. Still, do you know how long it took before Willie could trust me? Actually it did not happen until 1970. He did not know for sure that I could be trusted until I told him that if he did not want to guard my coffin again, he did not have to. That I understood that I had his own life to lead." he smiled wryly "Actually, the one I had the most trouble convincing I had changed was myself."

"But it is not the same with me!" Carolyn protested "I know that I have changed! I mean it!"

"I know you have."

"You do?" The surprise in her face was genuine."

"Of course I do. You sound too much the way I did in 1968."

"But I never did the kind of things you did." she said defiantly.

"No, you haven't. That makes things easier for you. But it will still be hard." he caressed her cheek tenderly. "all I can tell you is that it is worth it."

She put her hand on his, then pulled it away. A tear began to form in her eye, but she repressed it. She was too old and tough to cry on Barnabas' shoulder.

"Don't be ashamed to cry." he said softly "I understand."

Carolyn backed away from him. "You understand! You always understand! You are so understanding that it stinks!"

Barnabas smiled at that and pulled Carolyn close again. "Go ahead and cry. I won't tell anybody that you did."

* * *

"Nervous, darling?"

Phillip nodded. Yes, he was nervous. First time on TV, playing the sax. Yes, it was only a local talk show for insomniacs. But still it was TV.

"Yes." he admitted to Vicky "I have the feeling that the moment the camera points at me, I am going to make an ass of myself."

"You won't"

Vicky's pregnancy did not show up, yet. But it would and that would make it more difficult to be on the road. Eventually, Vicky would have to take it easy.

Guiltily he realized that one of the reasons why Vicky was traveling with him was money. She was doubling as his agent, manager, secretary, right hand man, and everything else. He was overworking her. And they were saving on rent on the house.

He realized that renting that house had been an expensive mistake. It was too big, the electric bills were too high, the rent was too high. He could not afford it, yet he had not bothered to look for something more convenient.

That did not happen when he was married to Megan. He realized that, had she not been in charge of the finances, he would have gone broke long ago. She took care of the practical side while he chose the glamorous side as antiques expert. Same as he was now doing with Vicky.

He hoped that Vicky could do it, for he knew that he was unable to.

Vicky felt tired, but tried to hide it. This show was important. For Phillip, for herself, and for the baby, too.

* * *

Delia wrapped the whip around her wrist and kissed it. The blood had seeped into the fiber, darkening it in spots. The smell was not strong, but still it was there.

She wondered what Frank, what the others, would say about her. Probably nothing. Their pride would not allow them to say what had been done to them.

But they would not come back, either. Eventually the whip would go hungry and would not be able to feed.

And even if she kept on luring men to her bed, there was no way that she could feed the whip as it begged to be fed. Nothing like what the whip had known in the past.

She unwrapped the whip slowly and put it away, resignedly. She could only playact. She never could have the real thing.

* * *

It made sense. He had never thought of it until he had opened Hallie's letter. So correct, so formal. Apologies which he knew were not meant.

Louella had been right, after all. It had to be connected to Laura. Not because this was her doing, but because it paralleled his own situation.

Laura's victims had banded together to destroy her. What about his own victims? Could they not do the same thing to destroy him? The sequence of events, Willie's wounds reopening, Kenneth harassing Julia in a merciless manner, Willie regressing to those horror days of 1967... There was too much malice in those things to be random events. There was someone directing it. Someone who hated him, or who believed himself wronged and seeking revenge.

Someone who hated him and knew how to hurt him. Where the pain was greatest...

A shiver ran through his spine. He recalled some of the names. Reverend Trask, Jason McGuire, Schuyller Rumsen, Ishtvan, Carl Collins... From what he knew of Trask, McGuire, Rumsen, or Ishtvan, they would not scruple in destroying Willie if that was the way to get back to him...

He had to deal with them. And he knew that it would not be like it had been with Dave. He doubted that they knew much about mercy... Trask had been a cruel man. Ishtvan had been known to torture, as he had almost done with Magda. Rumsen was a weasel. McGuire was a crook - though he may have some fondness left for Willie...

The grim humor of it touched him, as he listed them. What was he doing? Awarding himself medals for having killed them?

And then there has been harmless Carl Collins. The dockside hookers like Ruby Tate, Crystal Chabot, Maude Browning, Suki Forbes... Perhaps Sophie Baker from 1897 if she had not survived his attack...

Hallie had once been Maude Browning, and because of what he had done to her, she had been willing to serve Laura as a way to avenge herself...

Maybe they too had a right to satisfaction. - he shivered - and even if they did not, they had the means to extract it. Anyone he cared for could be a target...

They already had Willie... and Julia was next on the list.

He had to see Julia...

When he reached Julia's office, it was too late. Julia lay crumpled on the floor, bruised and whimpering. Kenneth stood over her, swinging his fists.

"Murderess.." he said. "don't you dare call the cops on me, or I'll tell them what I know about you."

Barnabas stared at him "Who are you?"

Kenneth did not answer.

"I know that you are not Kenneth. Who is it behind his eyes? Trask? Rumsen? McGuire? Which one of you?

Kenneth laughed. "So you guessed."

"Yes, I did."

Kenneth laughed again, and there seemed to be a ripple inside him.

Trask was now beside him. Then McGuire. Then Carl Collins, Then Ishtvan, then Rumsen. Then the women. Nelle Guston, Ruby Tate, Suki Forbes...

When they had all shown themselves Kenneth crumpled on the floor.

"As you see, we can reach and destroy anyone you care for. We can destroy her." they pointed to Julia. "We can destroy Willie. We can destroy Louella. And David. And Elsa. And George"

"Stop!" What do you want to leave them alone?"

"You." Trask said coldly "to stand trial for murder and other crimes."

Barnabas gulped "You can have me to do as you wish."

Jason laughed, Barnabas turned to him. "Willie was your friend. How can you torture him this way?"

"That's enough, Barnabas Collins." Trask said "you are the one on trial, not us."

Barnabas lowered his head, accepting the situation.

"A week from now come to the Old Mill, for trial, sentencing, and execution. Until then, you are free on your own recognizance."


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

He did not have that many days. it was a wonder that he had any at all. In a way, Trask and the others had been generous. He was allowed to make his last dispositions and say goodbye to those he loved. True, he could not tell them what would happen.

But still, he could be close to them one last time.

All those he loved. Willie, Julia, George, Iris, Phillip, Vicky, Chris, Amy...David, and Megan, and Angelique, and Maggie...

In spite of everything, he still had a warm spot for Maggie. And for Sabrina, too.

Then Oriana, and Frances, and Louella, and Joe, and Tammy, and Buffy...

And Carolyn, and Roger, and Edmund... And Alma, and Elsa, and Sandy, and Xavier... and even Harry Redwolf... and Frank Torrance, and...

In 1967 he had nobody. Willie would have killed him given half the chance. Maggie, once the illusion he had constructed for her had dissolved, hated him as much as it was possible to hate anyone. And he had accepted that. Believed that that was all he was entitled to.

Again his mind went to Julia. What would have become of him without her? And for that, she had been beaten by Kenneth.

It was no use blaming Kenneth for being possessed by Trask and the others. Now he could not figure out how Julia had come to be in the hospital, and Barnabas could not tell him the truth about that. It was enough that Julia would recover.

But the only way she would recover would also be the only way that Willie recovered. If payment was not made, the two of them would die.

He wished that he could call on Anselm Trask. But he could not. He was bound by his promise not to let anyone know of his fate... and Trask assured him that they were severing all mental bonds he had with those he fed on. He barely could feel them in his mind. When he went to the Old Mill, they would be silent as he would be silent to them..

Still, if he could talk to Anselm...

Funny that he should feel now the need for religion. He had not cared much for it before. Was it because it was now denied to him? Or because he had learned the wrong kind from his Aunt Abigail and those like her? Because for too long he had believed that 'Our Father in Heaven' meant a larger, nastier version of Joshua?

Quite a time to get religion, he mocked himself.

He went out. It was late, too late to see anyone, anyway, except Megan or Derek... and probably they too were busy...

He walked on the beach, studying how the white crests shone in the moonlight. He tried to remember what they had looked like in daytime. He had not paid much attention to that before, and now...

Never mind. What he had was good enough.

He sat down on the sand, his knees gathered under his arms. It was so still there, so peaceful...

He remembered that time when Munsungan had demanded his life. That had been a while ago, and he had been spared then.

But he would not be spared now.

A wave broke close to the beach and pushed the white foam towards his feet.

He let his fingers fall on it. It was cold, he knew, but he would never know how much.

How would they do it? Would they be quick about it? Trask's death had not been quick. He could demand a slow, lingering death for his murderer.

But whatever they did, dawn would end it. He would not suffer beyond the dawn. Yet it might still be a long wait.

A tremor ran through his body. He was afraid. Not of death, but of the pain they could give him. They hated him and he had no illusions about their compassion, or decency, or kindliness towards him.

He wished that he could feel guiltier about their deaths. But Trask...Rumsen... Nelle Gunston who had proudly said that she would do whatever the Leviathan wanted her to do... for them he could not feel remorse, no matter how hard he tried.

But Carl Collins... that harmless fool... he had been used, true. But still, it hurt him to remember how he had done it.

And Ruby Tate and the other women...

They did not deserve their fate. They had done him no harm. They had been at the wrong place at the wrong time... and he had not taken the trouble to be careful as to how he took the blood...

Still... how much pain would he be asked to bear?

Willie's life depended on it. And Julia's..

Willie had to live. Willie's child should not grow up without a father...

If the child was a boy, would Willie call him Barnabas? He might...

... At least this solved one problem. He would not have to visit the graves he loved again.

But still... to be able to hold Willie's child in his arms...

He would need all his courage a few days from now. Too few days. Too little courage, if he were to tell the truth. It is one thing to be brave when you can still defend yourself and another when you are helpless and waiting for the last blow.

The next wave covered his feet. he should get up now. But not yet. It was pleasant enough there...

* * *

Carolyn's friendliness had disappeared as he mentioned Liz's name. She was bitter again, with that bitterness that he had come to know so well.

Still, he had to try to get them together. For Carolyn's and Liz's sake. Somehow what Trask had planned for him would be less hard if he knew that somehow mother and daughter had come close again.

"She writes to you, doesn't she?"

"Yes. She does. I know that it is not easy for you."

"Of course it isn't easy! she snarled, then calmed down "What does... my mother say?"

"She's fine, but wants to come back to Collinsport. She wonders if it would be comfortable for you if she did. She would not come to Collinwood." he added quickly.

Carolyn closed her eyes painfully "But we'd still be in the same town."

"You'd not have to meet her unless you wanted to."

"And, of course, you can bite me to make me change my mind."

"I would not."

"Why not? You have done it before."

"It would make things worse instead of better."

"Do you think that she was right in doing what she did?" Carolyn asked defiantly, daring him to defend Liz for running away with her daughter's fiancé.

"No. I don't say it. But I think it is time to put your anger behind you. You can't go on punishing her forever."

"Just out of generosity, then?"

"Yes. and the fact that she is your mother."

Carolyn shrugged "All right... tell her that she can come back."

"Thank you."

"You can see Edmund now."

* * *

Dusk fell and Barnabas opened his eyes.

This was the day. He had to leave Collinsport behind and meet Trask's brand of justice.

He got slowly out of his coffin, delaying each movement. He thought of all the other times when had come close to such a moment. He dismissed the thought. The fact that the other times he was spared did not mean that he would be now. He should know Trask better than that.

A cat was sleeping on the couch, purring contentedly.

"Will you miss me?' he asked as he scratched the cat behind the ears.

The cat began rubbing itself against his hand.

'Yes, you would. I do feed you at times, I play with you. I am sorry kitty. You'll have to make do with Buffy. I think that Julia will take you in and find you homes.

The cat purred at him.

"Goodbye, kitty"

* * *

The old mill stood over the abandoned road. Its walls rose, tall and forbidding, in the dark.

He went inside. The mice scurried along as he stepped on the dirty floors. There was mildew on the walls and cobwebs all over. The smell of humidity and rotting matter reached him.

He moved to the center of the room and waited. There was a light glow on the walls. Not a warm one. It was a poisonous phosphorescence.

"Is the accused here?" Trask's voice reached him, deep and resonant.

"Yes. I am here." he was unable to hide the scorn that Trask inspired in him.

"On your knees." Trask ordered him. "On your knees before the court."

Barnabas tried to protest, then remembered that this was Trask's game. He bit his lip and knelt down.

"Does this please the court?' he asked.

"Not entirely" this time it was Jason McGuire who spoke "he should be secured."

They fell on him. He whimpered at their painful touch but made himself bear it as they bound his arms and legs. He was surprised to find their hands so strong.

He could break the ropes easily. But he would not, for he knew that if he did Willie would pay for it. He restrained himself, them. He would let them have what they wanted. It was their show.

"Well, prisoner, how do you plead?" Trask asked him.

"Guilty."


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

"Then he took the gun and shot me." Rumsen said coldly "I begged him to let me go, but he just pulled the trigger."

Barnabas twitched. Was there any point in going over this? He had already pleaded guilty.

But he knew that this was not regular trial. What got him was having to listen to that weasel playing the victim. Rumsen had chosen to turn traitor to his whole species, and continued to be so after all compulsions were removed. Traitors are shot at dawn, from the back...

Still, they had taken the right to do whatever they wanted with him. Just being bound as he was showed how little fairness or pity eh could expect.

Rumsen was the last one. There were no others after him. He had killed no one in this reality after him, not in this reality (there had been a sheriff shot in 1995, in the ruins of Collinwood - a future that would not happen now). In Parallel Time there was Cyrus Longworth in his John Yeager persona. And in his last trip... But evidently ghosts has as much difficulty in crossing Parallel Universes as living people did.

"An obdurate criminal" Trask smirked "has the jury reached a verdict?"

"We have, your honor." Carl Collins answered gleefully.

"And this verdict is...'

"Guilty of murder in the first degree."

"I expected so. Well, Barnabas Collins, do you have anything to say before I pass sentence on you.?"

Barnabas lifted his head. "Yes, I have." - and he did not add 'Your honor."

"Do you wish to express regret at your actions? Any repentance?"

"I am sorry I did not give you a quick death, Reverend. For Carl Collins and Jason McGuire, all I can say is that I was a pawn, used for somebody else's purposes. Even so, I could have spared your lives if I had kept a calmer head... Still, it served those purposes that they died, and I was just the means to that end, and end that I did not choose."

Carl laughed at this. A nasty, ugly laugh - Barnabas had never heard such a laugh from him before. "Nice story. But you killed me because I knew too much about you."

"I am sorry, Carl. I genuinely am."

"Maybe he's truly repentant" Trask mused "It will not save him from the gallows, but it will be easier on his soul."

"Gallows, Reverent?" Carl asked "I thought we were going to use my new toy" Carl was pouting tone was now familiar. Yet it was different, more malignant.

"Yes, Carl. We will use your guillotine."

"Thanks Reverend."

"Do you wish to add anything, Barnabas Collins?"

"I cannot find regret for Schuyller Rumsen or Nelle Gunston. They were traitors, and treason is punished by death. They were rightful executions, and I do not accept any penalties in their behalf."

"You are too proud for someone who is about to get his head chopped off" Rumsen said, snickering.

"I do bitterly regret the fates of Ruby Tate, of Crystal Chabot, of Suki Forbes, They lives were simply throw away because I could not bother to be careful on how I handled them. I had had used my judgment they would have lived, with little harm done to them. That instead I chose to panic, and punish them for what was not their fault weights heavily on me. I _should_ have taken care they were unharmed from my feeding.. For this I am deeply sorry."

He lowered his head again.

"Are you sorry for anything else, Barnabas Collins?" Trask insisted.

"I said I regret making you suffer needlessly. That's all the regret I can find about you, Trask."

Anger played in Trask's eyes. "I sentence you to death, to be executed on the guillotine, as soon as it is installed. Prepare him."

They opened his collar, taking off his tie and tucking his shirt collar underneath the shirt. Then Suki Forbes cut off the hair that was too close to the neck, and could interfere with the fall of the knife.

He had read of this, heard it described from those who had been in Paris in the heyday of Robespierre's rule. Neck bared, free of all impediments. Would they make him ride a tumbrel too?

Why had Trask chosen this? Usually he was content with hanging.

But hanging would have no effect on him. There were not too many ways to kill a vampire, and he should be grateful that Trask had not chosen to burn him.

* * *

He tried to shift his weight at his legs hurt. It was difficult because of the bindings. They had also blindfolded him. All he could do was wait until the guillotine was set up.

He sensed that one of them was with him.

"So, Barnabas Collins?" Ruby Tate asked "they are setting up the machine to cut off your head. Do you want a peek?"

The blindfold fell and he could see it. One glance told him that the blade was indeed sharp and would sever his neck with one blow.

"Well, that's enough." the blindfold was replaced and he was again in darkness.

"Ruby, would you mind easing the rope in my wrists? It is a bit too tight."

She didn't move "Did you mean it?" she asked hollowly "What you said about me, about being sorry?"

"I do mean it. For Trask, and Rumsen, and Nelle Guston I do not care much. Even Jason, who hurt Liz badly... Still, I owe him something. And Carl, I owe him and I intend to pay for him. But with you, with you it was different. I deserve this just for what I did to you."

"Well, you are going to pay now."

"Yes. I am." he moved his hands again. "Please, try to loosen my wrists. I won't try to escape nor anything, I just want to be a bit more comfortable... Ruby, I could break the rope if I wanted to."

"It won't make any difference" she grumbled "after we are done, whether your wrists hurt or not."

"Still, I will feel better now."

"Better..." Ruby shook her head "I was only twenty years old. All I could have had and never did."

"I know. that's what makes it so hard. My life for yours not enough. I have known so much. I have had so much. Friendship, love, laugher. Ruby, if somehow I could give you of it, if I could let you have some of the good times I had, if I could make you feel what a good friend is worth... If I could give that to your... But I can't. All I can do is to let you cut my neck."

"Yes, you never can pay me back what you took away from me."

"I wish I could. I honestly wish I could."

Ruby moved closer, still not touching him.

"I was so scared. I tried to fight you off. I tried to escape..."

"It would have cost me so little to have you walk away safely after I had taken what I needed. ... I wish I know then how easy it was to make it safe.."

"It is too late for me. And for that, you'll get your head chopped off."

"Yes. I will."

"Are you afraid?"

"A bit. At least it will be quick."

"Don't count on it."

Barnabas shivered. Awkwardly he got to his knees. "Ruby, will you let them know? I mean, Willie and the others?"

"I don't run errands for you."

"I just want them to... to know. I could not tell them..."

"So? Neither did I. Not that I had many friends."

Barnabas was about to plead again when Trask spoke "The guillotine is ready. Are you?"

"I am."

He tried to rise, but before he could move, he felt himself being grabbed, pulled up, and dragged across the floor.

"Do you have any last wishes? Do you wish for the comforts of religion?" Trask spoke now in a professional tone. Barnabas felt something being thrusts against his faced, and he felt the burn as he realized it was a cross.

A whimper escaped him. Somebody pulled at his hair, moving his face closer to it, then the cross was slid over his head. and left hanging from his neck.

He shivered as he would be now unable to move at all, to even try to break the ropes.

Then he felt himself be lifted and strapped to a plank. Then the plank was tilted and he felt the wooden collar lock.

He waited for the knife to fall.

The blade did not fall. He moaned slightly, a twitch running through his body, the only movement the cross allowed him.

"What's the matter with you?" Rumsen asked, mockingly.

"Please, finish me off." Barnabas said, his voice shaking.

He knew now that he was going to be tortured. Waiting, in pain from the ropes, blind, being mocked by them.

"Please..." Jason sneered "Please, he says now."

So it was going to be this way. They could keep him alive under the knife for as long as they could. Well, dawn would take care of it.

If only they had not blindfolded him. It was as bad as it had been in the chained coffin. He tried to remember that they had some right to this.

He heard their activity. Things were being moved around. He wondered what it was that they were doing. But asking would only bring more abuse from them.

"Well" Carl sounded like he did when he had played a good joke on someone "It is done. Just as you wanted it, Reverend."

"Yes. It is about time that he found out what this is all about."

Something was dropped on him. Something powdery.

Just as he recognized it as being earth from the burial ground, the blindfold was yanked from his eyes. They he saw what he had done.

He screamed.

"You are lucky" Trask said "your sentence has been commuted to life imprisonment."

"Don't you think it is a very funny joke?" Carl said "The blade will never come down. One of my best..."

"No! Don't do this! Kill me, make it end!"

"Come Barnabas, plead." Carl said. "I want to hear you do it."

"Please, kill me and be done with.!"

"We can't kill you." Trask said, pedantically "there is not death penalty in Maine, if you haven't heard."

"One of my best jokes." Carl repeated.

They faded away, leaving him alone.

"Come back!" he shouted. "come back! Don't leave me like this! Please! Please!"

But they were gone. Only a lighted candle remained with him. He screamed and begged and it was no use. He heard himself begin to sob. They could not do this to him... They could not..

Then Jason McGuire was with him.

"Jason, please."

"You make too much noise."

Jason picked up a stone left from the wall they had built to block the entrance, and pushed it into Barnabas' mouth.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

His tongue tried to push the stone out, but it would not go past his teeth. His jaws were distended and they were beginning to hurt.

So did his wrists and ankles. His body was rigid, frozen by the cross hanging from his neck.

Why had he trusted them? Why did he expect them to have any mercy?

Would his friends miss him? Would they look for him? Or would they believe him to be dead? They had severed his mental links to those he fed from. And if Trask could make the wounds in their throats disappear, then everyone would believe he was dead...

They would mourn him. At least some of them. Maybe Willie would name a son after him. Maybe Phillip... Then they would go on with their lives. While he lay helpless there, slowly going mad.

For he would go mad. Slowly his mind would escape the cruel reality by making up a world of its own. For a while he would dream of those world, live in them, and then he would wake up, still strapped to the plank.

He knew how it would happen. It had happened to him before when his father had chained him in his coffin.

And one day he would be released. Eventually. If he was lucky, he would be released in the daytime, and the sun would finish him off... Maybe he'd just be a vegetable by then...

But it might not happen that way. He might be free, go out into the world, torn in anguish, lost in madness, looking for Julia, for Willie, for all who had meant so much to him and who would then be gone.

What would he do then? What he had done to Maggie in 67? What he had done to Willie? Would there be a Julia to take pity on him and help him find himself again?

He had lost them. The people who mattered most, they were lost to him. And he was helpless. A consciousness attached to an immobilized, painful body.

It was unfair. Trask did not have to wait that long. When the oxygen ran out, he died. But him, nothing sort of the stake or the daylight could kill him. Or that blade, if it was ever to fall over him...

... He was with Willie. They were waiting for Louella to come down with the baby. Willie was disheveled and talking a bit too shrilly.

"You'll see what a beautiful baby it is, Barnabas.

There was a scream upstairs. Willie did not react. He continued talking as if nothing had happened.

He raced upstairs and found Louella's beheaded body in a pool of blood.

The baby laughed at him, sharp, triangular teeth in his mouth... and he had Carl's eyes "don't you think it is a good joke, Barnabas?"...

He was again on the plank.

So he had had his first nightmare. His first dream of escape. They would come again and again and again, and each of them would be longer, more real than the previous one.

He strained his eyes, but all he could find was darkness and the shape of the bricks that closed the entrance. He tried to listen but whatever sounds there were he could not identify them. There were no living creatures there. They would die of suffocation sooner or later. Only him. He strained his consciousness, not in the hope of finding someone to help him, but because it have him something to do, something to strive for. Something that allowed him to remember who he was.

... George was now with him.

"So, Justice has caught up with you at last, didn't it?" George asked, his eyes flinty.

He looked piteously at George, begging him to release him/

"You were tried and convicted in a court of law "George continued. "As an officer of the court I can't set you free. Still..."

George laughed and his features seemed to blur.

"You owe me a lover, you realize that."

There was another figure behind George. Dave, he thought. But the other man laughed, and it was Petofi. And George was now Aristide.

"Do you want him first?" Petofi asked with cold malignity "I will hold him for you."

And he did, and Aristide did. All he could do was grit his teeth and refuse to be broken. Remember not to give Petofi what he wanted...

...And he was looking at the bricks again.

The dreams would get nastier and nastier, too.

He wanted to see George again. He wanted to see all of them. But he could not. He'd never see them again. By the time he was released, Willie's child would have died of old age.

When he was released again eh would be that vicious demented creature that he had been once. That is, if he did not become catatonic first.

What would he do? Would he look for Willie? For Julia? Would he ever make his way back? Would he find anyone to help him?

He thought of the one who had not joined his persecutors, because the account had been settled in a different way. He wondered if Dave could know what had happened to him, if there was any way he could make the blade fall.

"Please" he begged in his mind. "You know what I was like then. Don't let me become like that again."

* * *

"Barnabas is still missing." George said to Julia who was much improved. "I don't know where else to look for him."

"You still think you can find him?"

George shook his head, discouraged "I saw Frances. Then wounds in her throat have disappeared. So have Buffy's. And Alma's. You know what this means."

"But it can't be!"

"He's dead, Julia. We have to accept it. Both you and Willie have recovered from your injuries in record time. I think that he bought your lives with his."

Julia sobbed.

George put his hand over her shoulder. "He would not want you to be unhappy about it."

* * *

He could not longer feel his lower jaw. Nor his hands or feet. The bindings had not been placed to restrain him, only to add father torment.

Again he marveled at their hatred. Sure, Trask's death had been a slow one, but none of the others he had tormented this way. At least he had been quick. Why would they do this to him? Why would they refuse to let the blade fall?

Why couldn't they let him die?

* * *

George reread what he had written. Barnabas' eulogy. He would deliver it tomorrow at the memorial service they would be holding.

He threw the pen away in disgust. That what all he could do for him then?

He took the sheet and crumbled it slowly. It was an empty gesture, he knew, a way of not accepting his death.

It only meant that he had to start writing again...

He was going to miss him. Miss him like crazy. And there was nothing he could do about it.

He heard a noise. He looked up, through teary eyes. And that's how he saw her.

Her clothes were from another century, and she was not solid...

"Barnabas Collins isn't dead." Ruby Tate told him. "he needs your help. This is what you need to do."

* * *

...Willie was dead. He lay there, his face ashen, his eyes closed. Louella was dead, too, her baby still inside her...

Then Julia and Kenneth, side by side.

Chris... Amy... David...

He tried t look away, only to see the bodies of Carolyn, Roger, and Edmund.

Phillip and Vicky laid to the right. Elizabeth to the left. Sabrina and Maggie further behind...

They were all dead. And he was alive.

He sobbed, but the sound didn't come. Because of the stone in his mouth. He tried to touch Willie, but could not because his hands were bound behind him...

He wept, his tears falling into the basket...

...He had been dreaming again. It had not happened. They hadn't died.

Yes. But by the time he was finally released, they would all be dead.

At least he could still tell the difference between dreams and reality. But not for much longer. Horrible as the dreams were, they offered more comfort than reality.

He was alone, immobilized, in the dark, deaf, and mute. With nothing to do but go slowly crazy. For how long could he hold out? Would there be any point in fighting it? He would lose that battle in the end.

Yet he wanted to cling to those faces and voices that had meant so much to him. The face of Vicky when he had brought her back from the prison of her own mind...

He would be like Vicky had been... Curled up in a corner of his own mind, sobbing, not daring to come out again.

It had been a miracle that the hadn't been a vegetable when Willie had released him in 67. Whether the miracle would repeat itself was doubtful. He would lose that battle, and be nothing...

And that was the best that could happen anyway...

There were noises from behind the wall. Strong blows being struck against the bricks, but lost in his feverish half dreams he failed to notice them.


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

George swung his pick with determination. Barnabas was behind that wall, probably aware of this effort to release him, and the wait might be an added torment to him.

He wondered about Barnabas' mental state. It had been several days that he had been walled in there. What would that do his mind? He knew what one hundred and fifty years in the locked coffin had done to him.

Barnabas in his mental state and hungry, might be dangerous. Well, Sabrina had taught him how to restrain him. He had all he needed for it, and also a strong dose of pain killer... Barnabas was going to need it.

The bricks dislodged slowly... too slowly... But at least he could see something inside...

It took him a while longer,... to long for his taste, till he could make the hole big enough to go in and see how Barnabas was held.

"Damn them!" he shouted as he saw how them had immobilized him, and how they had put the earth over him to keep his alive.." Damn the bastards."

He opened the wooden collar and made the plank vertical again. The movement seemed to startle Barnabas who grunted.

He released the straps and Barnabas crumbled to the ground... He moaned, and saw the stone in his mouth. Without thinking, he stuck his fingers in Barnabas' mouth and pulled the stone, out, aware that he was causing Barnabas' pain, but also that he had to get the damn thing out. Pain tore at Barnabas' face, and when the stone was finally out, he screamed in pain.

George remembered how dangerous Barnabas could be, and as Sabrina had done, taped his mouth shut, then began massaging the jaw muscles to ease out the cramp.

But there was something else that would help more. He had the hypodermic and the heroin he had confiscated from the latest drug raid. He measured an extra heavy dose. The more euphoric and pain free Barnabas felt the better. Addiction issues would be handled later. He stabbed Barnabas in the neck with it, and hoped it took effect quickly.

Barnabas stared numbly at him, aware that it was George, but thinking that this was just another dream.. a dream with an horror hidden at the end

"You are going to be all right." he cut the ropes at the ankles and wrists, then brought Barnabas' hands forward, locked them in handcuffs, and hung a small cross from them. Then he took out the cross Barnabas had around his neck and threw it away, in disgust... Originally the cross had been an instrument of torture, and it had been used thus...

...this was Willie... Barnabas thought. Willie released him. It always was Willie...

"You are going to be e all right." George spoke, helping Barnabas to his feet. "We all missed you. We were worried sick about you."

...This was not Willie... who was he? If he was not Willie, who could it be? He had not bitten him, and yet he was willing to help him, anyway... What had happened?...

...He had not been in a locked coffin... no, he had been strapped to that head chopping machine that the French had invented, and used so much during their Revolution... Only the head-chopping machine had not worked... Strange that...

Georges saw the expression in Barnabas' face and his heart shrank. How could anyone do that to him? To have used him so cruelly, as if he was not a human being, as if they had a right to. Impulsively he caught Barnabas' face and kissed it., and hugged him close. He caressed the hair and the neck. "You are going to be all right. You are going to be all right." he kept repeating. Barnabas clung close to him, hungry for a human touch.

"My poor baby." George said. "what have they done to you?"

He helped him to stand up, and to walk to the car. Barnabas seemed to have forgotten how to walk, but George managed to get him there. He put him in the passenger seat and strapped the security belt. Then he kissed him again, He slid his fingers under the handcuffs to massage the wrists, only to pull out as he realized that the skin had been rubbed off in parts.

A rabbit raced across them. Barnabas followed it with hungry eyes. George understood. He watched where the rabbit was, then shot it with his gun.

He brought the warm carcass to Barnabas, tearing out the tape from his mouth.

Barnabas bit into the rabbit, but almost immediately turned his face away, screaming in pain. George shuddered, thinking how the inside of his mouth must be lacerated... he could not make Barnabas feed..

He would to have to tell Julia that Barnabas now needed it straight into the vein, as his mouth was to be useless until it healed..

"Willie..? " Barnabas asked "Willie..."

"Willie is all right. They are all right." He taped Barnabas' mouth closed again. He hugged him again, to reassure him with his touch... With luck, the heroin would be kicking in any moment, easing the worst of it.

...This was not Willie... but it had to be Willie. First Willie, then Maggie, then Julia... that was how it went, wasn't it?...

... But this man did not sound like Willie...

It was just a ten minute drive, but for George it seemed an eternity. How could they have done that him? Why so much cruelty? Did they hate him so much?

He got to the Old House, and was welcomed by Buffy. Buffy did not really expect Barnabas to come back, but had been unwilling to leave... Just in case...

"Help me get him inside and into his coffin. Don't touch his gag. His mouth is badly wounded and the less he uses it the better. I will go call Julia. You just sit by his head, and put a warm washcloth on his forehead. And tell him that he is going to be all right. That everything will be all right now...


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

Barnabas rested on his back, immobilized by the cross on his chest. He was impatient, Julia could see, but he would have to wait until the blood was into his system, now that he was taking it straight into the vein. Only when they were certain that his hunger had abated, he would be allowed to get up. And his hands would still be bound with surgical gauze. Julia was not taking any chances with him. He had gotten out of control once, and once was one too many.

"Just be patient." she patted him on the forehead. When this is done you'll be able to get up. And if you promise not to talk too much I won't gag you. You know that your mouth is badly lacerated on the inside and talking puts a strain on it."

"Jason McGuire" Barnabas said. "He did that. He hates me... all of them do."

"It is all right, It is over now."

"I owe them."

"No" Julia said curtly "After what they did to you they have no right to do anything else. You gave them all you had to give. What more could they ask?"

"You'll have to kill me, Julia."

"I will not do that."

"It is the only way. They will try again, and they know that I am vulnerable thought the people I love. They will threaten you again. After I am dead, they can touch no one."

"It is not the first time we fight ghosts."

"Not with Willie as a battlefield, Julia."

Julia sighed. She had no good answer to that, even if she suspected that they could not touch him again. He waited until the blood was into his system before he tied his hands again, gagged him, and allowed him to get out of this coffin. Louella was visiting, that was why she had gagged him. She was not running any risks. Louella had cried and hugged him, asking him to get better. He had nodded, and probably more certain than ever that he should die...

Later, during the day, she met George.

"How is he doing?"

"Suicidal. he's trying to talk me into using a stake on him."

"You won't, I hope."

"No, it is just a bad reaction to what he went through."

"A bad reaction" George laughed mirthlessly, his eyes haunted. "You have a real talent for understatement. I saw what they did to him. I got that stone out of his mouth... I can't bear it, just to think of what he endured. immobile, in pain, alone, knowing that it would go on forever... And he endured it."

Julia put a hand on George's shoulder. "He's free now. He is recovering."

"Do you have to keep him the way you do? Confined? Bound?"

"He needs to rest and to get his bearings back. He might be confined but he is not alone. He has a constant stream of visitors that reassure him that he is back, that he is home, and that he is loved..." he looked at George. "speaking of love, I think that he is imprinted on you."

"What you mean, imprinted?"

"Yours is the face that he saw when he was delivered. You caressed him, and he... he got aroused by it."

"I did not mean to.. He needed to be touched."

"Yes, He needed it. But if you want to take him to bed, he is ready for it.."

George shook his head. "No, not like this."

"He is ready for it. He needs it. First he needs the physical contact, and then you can give him the commitment he craves. And it is a way for both you and him to close the wound... You two are missing Dave,...just as he planned it."

"Dave could be a bastard when he wanted to."

"Yes." Julia laughed. "But he meant well for both of you. Although he meant well by you most of all. You were always the one who mattered for him. Barnabas and I were just, incidental..."

George looked down. "I never thanked you for keeping it secret... what I did to you. It could have cost me my badge. Just as Zeb could have cost me, if Barnabas had not stopped him..."

"It was the least I could do... And the beating was not the worst."

"No, it wasn't."

"Well, we have gone well past that, haven't we?"

"Yes."

"George, tomorrow I want you to take Barnabas for a stroll. Take him to bed. He is half expecting it. He will not try to fight you off. He desperately needs that you have to offer, but will not ask for it. Just make love to him. Give him pleasure. Make him crave more."

"You know what you are doing?

"Yes. I am pimping him. But I am also pimping you to him.. You two need each other. Which means that what I am doing is matchmaking."

* * *

She had made Barnabas ready, hands tied in front of him, and the tape across his mouth. George winced when he saw this. He did not want it to be rape, but that was what it looked like. He saw Barnabas' expression, and the yearning there, and he knew that Barnabas half suspected what was going to happen, and that he accepted it.

Whether it was real desire or just gratitude.

Or imprinting, as Julia said.

"Julia tells me that you are feeling better. That I can take you out. I hope that I did not hurt you too much when I took out that stone. I know that I should have been gentler..."

Barnabas shook his head and smiled with his eyes.

George helped Barnabas to his feet and guided him out. Barnabas clung closet to him, seeking to touch him as much as possible.

"He knows." George thought. " and he wants it too. Only he does not dare to say it aloud."

He took him to that cottage that had not been used for a while. He helped Barnabas to the bed.

He kissed him "You know what is going to happen now." he said.

Barnabas shivered, but managed to nod.

"I don't want to hurt you." George spoke slowly "I don't want to frighten you."

Barnabas shivered again. He remembered Petofi and what had been done to him. He knew that some of it would be the same, at last the mechanics of it. But Petofi's hands had not felt like this, Petofi had not spoken to him this way...

He tensed up at first, in the begging, as a protest for what was about to happen, but a few soft words of George made him relax again. He trusted George, He wanted him.

He was so vulnerable. He could resist Petofi's attempt to degrade him, knowing that as long as he did not give away information he had won. But how could he defend himself against being made love to? When George told him how to cooperate in his own ravishment and he did so.?

And he wanted George to touch him, wanted to be touched, even in ways that he had never allowed another male to touch him before...

He needed this...


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

"Well, how did it go?" Julia asked George with a hint of a leer. "Did you two make love?"

George shrugged "I don't know."

"What you mean you don't know? It is not the kind of things that you are not sure it happened."

"I had sexual relations with him. But whether it was making love or rape..."

Julia understood "You are not sure what he thought of it."

"He did enjoy it. I could tell. But afterwards he seemed a bit distant, and when I touched his face he pulled away."

"Were you trying to take the tape off his mouth?"

He looked t her. "How do you know?"

"It makes sense. He did not feel raped, but he could not say so. He has hang-ups from how he was raised. He can imagine what Joshua or Abigail would say if they saw him like that. Worse, how Naomi would suffer if she knew... So he wants to be able to claim it was rape, just in case. So he wants to keep the gag on. It is his security blanket for now."

"I don't like doing it this way."

Julia laughed softly "George Brant, you are so difficult to satisfy. For quite a while you said you'd be happy if only you could have him in your bed. Now you got him."

"And I get difficult again... say, why are you helping me like this?"

"Because Dave asked me to. Did not demand, no he was too good a manipulator for that. He told me that I did not have it at all. That I did not owe it to him. And he seemed so sincere... Of course, I have to do it... he just manipulated me into thinking I _must_ do it. So I do."

"Well, so it is... Say, what are we going to do about his suicidal tendencies? That has not changed."

"He is afraid that they might come back and threaten everyone he cares about. It is a long list... "

"Maybe we could hold a séance to clear up what he still owes and what not."

There was laughter behind them. They turned and saw Ruby Tate.

"You won't need a séance. You were right. They have no more power over him. He still owes me, but I will take a different payment."

* * *

Anselm Trask was embarrassed by the sight of the cross hanging from Barnabas' bound wrists. It should not be this way. Even if the intention was good, he did not care to see it used this way. Add to it the knowledge that one his ancestors had tried to do to the man...

Barnabas smiled wanly "Are you ashamed because of your ancestor?"

Anselm nodded.

"Don't be. It wasn't you who did it. And then, while we can choose our friends, our relatives are thrust upon us. it is trouble enough living down your own mistakes, why borrow those of your family?"

Barnabas was calmer now. and, his mouth being almost healed, he was allowed to talk up a storm, that is, except when George took him out for a walk... Yet, calmer or not, he still insisted in being killed to end the threat he represented for everybody.

"I hope that you are feeling better now."

"Yes. I am. Still, I keep worrying about what they'll try to do next. They can do it, you know."

Anselm sighed. He knew what would come next. Julia had warned him that Barnabas kept asking people to kill him to save others from the danger he could bring to them.

"They won't"

"They will" he said firmly "I know them, Reverend."

He stopped. It was not Anselm's voice. It was a woman's

It was Ruby's.

"They no longer hold any power over you." she said, calmly.

She had changed. A lot of her anger seemed to be gone. Not all of it.

"You were the one who told George where to find me?"

"I would have had your head chopped off gladly. But not torture."

"For whatever reason you did, thank you."

Ruby moved closer to him. "What you said to me then, about what I missed., all you wanted to give me, did you mean it?"

"I meant it."

"I will hold you to your word. I will not demand your life nor inflict pain on you. But you will give me what your promised me."

Tears seemed to come into his eyes, unbidden. She was amused.

"You weep for me?" she asked. "It is strange. Nobody mourned me. They were shocked, frightened. But no one thought it a great loss. My pimp found himself another girl. I was the subject of another sermon on how the wages of sin is death. Then I was forgotten. Except by you, it seems. Well, I'll take what I can get. But I want to be more than a bad memory for you. I want to be me, Ruby Tate. I want you to care for me, as I was."

A shiver ran through Barnabas. He had gone through something like this before and he had still not recovered from it.

Anselm watched this exchange knowing better than to interrupt.

"The others?" Barnabas asked "what is going to happen to them?"

"Not much. Not until they let go of their hatred."

"Carl was never vicious. He could be annoying, but never to the point of fixing something like that guillotine."

"Trask leads them. He's the one who hates you most."

"In a way he has some right. Could I help them in any way?"

"Don't get close to them again, or you may become vulnerable again. They will be free when hey are ready to give up their hatred, not before."

He smiled, a bit melancholy. He wondered what would Ruby demand of him. He knew what Dave had demanded. But had he been so unhappy about it? He was richer by it.

"I accept your gift, Ruby, to be able to make it up to you. And I hope that you accept my gift, too."

* * *

What will Ruby demand of Barnabas? How will his relationship with George evolve? What about Julia and Kenneth - are they separated for good? And will Willie's baby finally arrive?

Stay tuned.


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